Melancholy's Children
by Arishia-chan
Summary: Final fic in "After Faded Light." Two children set out to find the Sachi Stone, hoping it will be happiness back to their father. But what starts out as a quick romp into Makai will turn into something quite different.
1. prologue chapter 1

Melancholy's Children

  
  


_Arishia's Notes: Welcome once again to a 'After Faded Light' fanfic, the last planned one in the 5-part series. The content should stay pretty PG to PG-13, with just some mild language and shounen-ai. ^^_

  


_Thanks goes to Mina and Emchay for their continued support of this YYH series. ^^ And a thanks also goes to Steph for the title idea. It comes from "Julius Caesar" and the quote is said by Messala when he finds Cassius dead:"Oh hateful Error, Melancholy's child. Why doest thou show to the apt thoughts of men the things that are not?"_

  


_Anyhoo, I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho, of course. But there *is* a slew of original charas – Kit, Hiyaku, Achene, Sakukyo, Bara, and The Fanged Flower are *mine*. If you dare to steal them and claim them as your own, Rev will come and pluck out your imagination feathers. So there._

  
  


Prologue

  


The night was quiet, cloaked under the darkness of a new moon despite the relatively clear sky. Even the pinpricks of light overhead did not offer any advantage to those who might have wished to see their way.

  


These circumstances aided Kit.

  


He glided through the night, unnoticed by any people who might be out that late. His feet barely flattened the blades of grass as he moved quickly and silently, as much a part of the still air as the air itself.

  


The city was nestled deep in its peaceful sleep. Kit emerged from the forest and, not slowly his fast pace, leapt to the rooftops and continued across them. Though his fox-sight was less than perfect in the dark, he knew exactly where he was going. Their scent was strong; their presence was burned into his mind.

  


Finding the right house, he alighted on the porch. Deft fingers sought out the piece of wire hidden within the silver strands at the base of his neck. With a thief's honed skill he picked the lock.

  


He closed the door, careful to prevent any creak as he relocked it. He could hear voices in the living room and see vague images flicking along one wall. The television was on, volume turned low, and the dim light revealed a woman stretched out on the couch.

  


Kit felt his lips twitch fondly. Undoubtedly Shiori's dormant motherly instincts had been awakened. Not being able to see Kurama or Hiei as caretakers, he had guessed that the human woman would take responsibility.

  


His smile faded a little. It was not fair of him to push this on her; he must repay the kindness somehow.

  


On the TV, a late night talk show was discussing the possibility of contacting the demon world. Kit cut the power, casting the room into shadow. He waited for his eyes to adjust, then bent and pressed a kiss to the woman's brow, silently thanking her. At her head, the baby monitor's light was glowing and he turned it off. She did not need it anymore tonight.

  


He made his way upstairs, noting that the children were kept in the room closest to the master bedroom. As he neared, a small wail split the silence, strained and half-hearted. Kit slipped inside the room that the cries came from and shut the door. A nightlight in the corner gently lit up the cradle by the empty bed. Holding his breath, the youko padded to the cradle and peered over the edge.

  


The boy was crying, chubby fists waving around, large eyes filled with tears. The girl was awake and instantly noticed the creature who had appeared.

  


"Your brother seems upset, eh?" Kit murmured. He shifted from one foot to another. "Well? What should I do?" She blinked, watching him. He sighed. "All right." Hands slightly trembling, he reached and took the boy from the basket. _I know how to do this, sure I do._ The babe was larger than three months ago, but still tiny, fitting snugly in the crook of his arm.

  


He stroked the matted black hair. "Why are you crying so much, chibi? Achene is content where she is." He glanced at the redheaded female, then scooped her into his other arm. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he lay the two side by side on his thighs, wrapping his tail around them so they could not roll and fall off.

  


"Perhaps you need a name." The child seemed to calm as Kit rubbed a warm hand over his smooth skin. "I am not the best one to come up with this sort of thing . . . eh, chibi, what name would you like?" His son sniffed, bottom lip puckering. Kit laughed softly. "Sakukyo it is, then, for one who cries."

  


He stretched out on the bed, gazing down at his children. They were both quiet now, with Sakukyo sucking on a tiny thumb and Achene merely observing everything. Kit rested his chin on a palm, golden eyes mirroring the other two pairs. "I ought to introduce myself . . . as you both must not remember me . . . I am your father . . ." The words sounded strange; he had never spoken them aloud before. "You can call me 'father,' if you want. Or 'Kit', if you do not."

  


A long finger tucked under Sakukyo's hand and the infant latched onto it. Kit breathed a slight sigh. "Forgive me," he murmured, "for leaving you as I did. Daini would have been ashamed of me . . ." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I want to be a part of your lives . . . can I?"

  


The twins did not answer, of course, but they were both quiet as if they understood everything he said to them.

  


"Daini is your mother," he continued softly. "But you will not ever meet her, except in your dreams. Shall I tell you about her?" He tapped one button nose and Sakukyo gurgled happily; Achene just stared. Kit smiled at the memories that flooded his mind. "I knew your mother for a bit over a year, and it took many arguments and such before we adjusted our priorities. Once we did . . . our relationship was still never quite perfect but we _meshed_ and we were just . . . together."

  


Kit talked throughout the night, comforting himself with the remembrances once the gentle rumble of his voice had lulled the children to sleep.

  
  


Chapter 1

  


Ten years later.

  


The girl knelt on the narrow stone walkway, golden eyes taking in the abundance of foliage before her. A thick rope of scarlet hair slipped over one thin shoulder as she leaned forward and brushed one fingertip across a flower. The rose shuddered and bloomed even more beautifully than before. The placid look on the girls' face did not change, and she turned to the next bluish blossom on the vine.

  


Her twin crouched a few yards away, shaggy black hair barely visible above the plants. A clipboard was balanced on one leg. He studied a particular patch of ferns, scribbling down descriptions and names, tongue stuck out a corner of his mouth as he concentrated.

  


They were inside a large greenhouse, a triangle of glass and heat nestled within the city. The Onshitsu was located just a few blocks from the school they attended, and they usually ventured there until their father came to pick them up.

  


For a normal person, the Onshitsu was a place to relax and breathe in the different aromas. For the two half-breed youko, it was a house of unending chance and stimuli, flooding their minds with links to thousands of other entities. Both the children had shown evidence at an early age that they'd inherited some of Kit's silver powers, such as connecting with small plants. Sakukyo had made it his lifelong goal to memorize the scientific names of all the plants in the Three Worlds; Achene could sense a rose petal caught among the wind several miles away.

  


They were small for the age of ten. Hiyaku, who was only about five years older, was much taller despite the lankiness he probably would not grow out of for at least eight centuries. The blue-eyed youko had looked older than the twins did when he was their age. Youko usually grew up fast, an adaptation to ensure survival in the unforgiving Makai, but the offspring of Kit and Daini barely reached past Hiyaku's waist. Dr. Toka had guessed that the children's lifespan would closely mimic that of a full youko, and therefore it would take them much longer to fully mature.

  


But that did not mean that their minds were not developing.

  


Sakukyo frowned, tapping his pen against the plastic clipboard. "Daini," he muttered, frustrated with himself. "Cya . . . cyath . . ." He glanced at his sister and held up the sample he was examining. "Achene, do you know what this is?"

  


She turned her somewhat unfocused eyes to Sakukyo, then returned to the bed of blue flowers and touched one. "Bara . . ."

  


Saku sighed. Had he really expected her to say anything else? "Yes. I know those are roses. I mean the ferns _here_." Achene did not answer, making another blossom grow. The boy chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Never mind. Thanks anyway."

  


Faintly, he heard someone calling them and swivelled his silver-furred fox ears forward as Hiyaku entered the greenhouse.

  


"There you are!" the tall youko greeted. There was, perhaps, nothing stranger than the sight of such a being dressed in blue jeans, a button-down shirt, and a tie decorated with black daises. (The daises were, in fact, Hiyaku's personal joke – he used to not be able to control anything larger than the tiny flower.) He had likely just come from teaching one of his classes.

  


Saku clipped a leaf from the plant and ran over. "Niichan!" he said, hope lighting up his face. "What kind of fern is this?"

  


Hiyaku took it from him and raised the sample to eye-level. "Cyathea dryopteroides, the elfin tree-fern. See it's shape?"

  


"I'd forgotten," Saku muttered. "It's the endangered one, right?" At his brother's nod, Saku handled the clipping more carefully. "Lemme go write it down." He scurried off, plopping beside his pile of notes.

  


Hiyaku grinned at the boy's enthusiasm – his brother in heart if not by blood. He sought out his other sibling and walked over to bend down beside her. "Whatcha looking at?"

  


Achene did not acknowledge him, one hand folded in her lap and the other touched each flower.

  


"They are very pretty, ne?" His eyes warmed. "Kit-father made the korokus for our mother, a long time ago. Maybe you shouldn't force them to bloom out of season . . . they are much prettier during the winter."

  


The girl stopped, replacing both hands on top of her aqua-colored dress, and sat staring before her. Hiyaku leaned over and kissed her hair affectionately. Achene had never said one word to him, but she never ceased to surprise him by actually listening from time to time.

  


Hiyaku rose smoothly. "Saku, we'd better head on home."

  


"Home?" Sakukyo echoed, dusting off his pants. "Isn't it too early? I thought . . ." He hesitated, fiddling with his clipboard. "I thought Father would come again today . . ."

  


"Saku . . ." The older youko sighed, realizing there was no way he could avoid this, just as he hadn't been able to every previous year. "You know that Father is never around for this week."

  


"Yeah, I know," the child muttered. "I just hoped it would be different this time . . . turning ten is supposed to be more special than all the others before."

  


Hiyaku thought about apologizing, but it would do no good. Instead he gave the boy what he trusted was an encouraging smile and gestured to the door. "You're right – it's too early. What do you say about getting some ice cream first?"

  


Some of the light came back into the young eyes. "Sounds great to me." He nodded at his sister who had not moved from her position. "You might wanna carry her. I think she heard what we said and she probably won't do anything else until Father comes back."

  


Hiyaku nodded and they headed back up the path. "Up you get, chibi," he said, lifting the passive girl into his arms.

  


As they were leaving the Onshitsu, Hiyaku finally could not stand it and added softly, "I'm sorry Father does this on your birthday."

  


"It's okay," Saku responded, shrugging bony shoulders. "I ought to be used to it by now."

  


***

  


After so many years, one might think that the ningen could ignore three youko strolling downtown during the evening, especially when two of them did not even have tails. But the stares they attracted were the same as they were a decade ago.

  


Hiyaku had lived through those times and had carried the weight of being a fox child surrounded by humans who did not know he existed until yesterday. And while Daini and Kit had been caught up in their own relationship, little four-year-old Hiyaku had been suffering alone, despairing whether he would be beaten up by a gang of human adolescents or shipped back to Makai because Kit would kill him otherwise. It was in silence that he suffered, though, understanding that larger problems were plaguing the others.

  


Now, an older, more mature Hiyaku could look back to those weeks and realize how they had benefitted him. To the younger youko, the Ningenkai was a frightening world with loud noises and strange smells. The plants, except for the expansive forest, were cramped into suffocating spaces, and fresh air was difficult to find. When the others were too busy to be bothered by him, Hiyaku was out exploring (very cautiously, of course).

  


After Daini's death, Hiyaku decided the only thing he could preserve that related to his surrogate mother was the Ningenkai itself. She had remained grounded in that world despite all that happened . . . therefore this backwards place could not be completely bad.

  


His fear had eventually given way to curiosity, melted beneath the urge to learn everything he could. He matured more during the year after her death than ever before and soon he was making speeches on anything from the essence of a flower to Shelta Water's best-selling books. The sight of a three-foot-tall youko, as well as the worthwhile things he had to say, drew enormous crowds.

  


Hiyaku was fifteen now, and had been teaching for almost two years at the very university Daini once attended. He already had majors and minors in nine different subjects, as well as graduate degrees in three. If someone wanted to apply the term 'nerd' to Hiyaku, he would not object.

  


They reached the apartment that Kurama and Hiei shared, and Hiyaku used his key to get inside.

  


"Kurama said to make yourselves at home," Hiyaku told the twins, flipping on the lights.

  


Saku shouldered off his bookbag. "Where are they?"

  


Hiyaku glanced at the clock. "In Makai. Yuusuke's meeting should be over by now so they'll be back soon." He bent and set Achene on her feet. "I'll stay until they get here, but then I've got a mountain of grading to do."

  


"We have homework." Saku scooted a stool over to one of the cabinets and climbed up to reach the glasses. "Want any?" he asked his older brother who shook his head.

  


"How is Junior High?"

  


"Okay." The black-haired child jumped to the floor and poured two glasses of water. Achene did not stir when he pressed a glass into her hand, but her fingers curled around it. "We're learning a lot and the teachers let me use the library whenever I want."

  


Hiyaku folded his arms. "And the other students?"

  


Saku shrugged nonchalantly. "They tease us sometimes because they're all older and bigger, and because we have different ears and eyes than they do. They're not stupid enough to try to push us around, though." He took a few gulps of water, wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

  


"Not after you made their potted flowers grow fangs," Hiyaku reminded, blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

  


"I had to," Saku defended. "They wouldn't leave us alone. And the flowers were tired of not being watered very often." He took Achene's empty glass and set them both in the sink. "Father was really mad about it."

  


Hiyaku chuckled. "He wants you to be able to live in the Ningenkai, grow up like Mother did."

  


"Yeah, I know." Saku grabbed a couple of their textbooks and took his sister's hand. "Mother was a ningen and she would've wanted us to be normal."

  


Hiyaku frowned. "Maybe not exactly normal . . ."

  


Saku leveled serious golden eyes. "Normal enough. Father tells us not to use our powers, but he grows those blue roses when he thinks we're not looking. And normal parents are around during their kids' birthdays, but Father won't show up again until ours are already passed." He sighed. "Sorry, niichan. I hate this time of the year."

  


Hiyaku gave him a small smile. "It'll change one day."

  


Saku nodded, tugging on Achene's hand so they could go do their homework. On the inside, he disagreed. It would never change, because their mother would never come back.

  


***

  


Sakukyo was half asleep when he heard the front door open and shut with a quiet click. Downstairs the voices were muted and Saku could not decipher any words; again there were noises as Hiyaku left. It was late; Saku could tell by how difficult it was to raise his eyelids.

  


Light feet padded upstairs. One pair turned toward the main bedroom while the other paused, then headed to the guestroom.

  


Saku tried to pretend he was asleep, not even twitching as the door cracked open and a dim light fell across him. He could tell the person was his uncle by the rose scent that wafted into the room. He did not really want to talk, and struggled to calm his breathing.

  


Kurama moved to the chair beside the bed and sat on it. For a moment, Saku only felt the sharp emerald gaze on him. Then, "I'm sorry we woke you. The meeting lasted longer than expected."

  


The trick had not worked. Saku opened his eyes and rolled over. The room was dark, but he could make out the redhead's features. "A fight broke out, niichan said."

  


"The Reikai wants to shut down the Ningenkai/Makai gates for five years, of course people were upset."

  


"Why? Why do they want to do that?"

  


Kurama rested his chin on a hand. "On the record, it's to buy the Reikai time to build better gates. But off . . . they're hoping during that time the Ningenkai will lose interest in inter-world trading." His lips curved upward. "Don't worry about your father. Kit'll be back before it happens in a few weeks, if he's in the Makai at all. So, chibi, Achene was growing the blues again?"

  


"A few." Saku looked at the girl laying next to him. "She wasn't happy when she heard Father was gone . . . Sometimes you can't tell what she's feeling, but she wasn't, you know?"

  


"I'm sorry it has to be like this for you."

  


Most people were. Saku did not want to hear it anymore, the apology in everyone's voices, the quiet grief whenever their birthday neared. So they shared that day with their mother's death . . . so what? Saku was tired of hearing about it year after year; he was tired of dreading this week.

  


"I wished she was alive . . . " he whispered. He trailed off, realizing he was speaking aloud.

  


Kurama was silent. He knew the boy usually refused to talk about his absent mother, preferring to keep his feelings buried inside. Kurama decided to ignore the words and not mention her again. "Would you like anything else before I go? Another blanket, maybe?"

  


Saku's eyes were bright and Kurama thought he was fighting tears. In reality the boy's mind was whirling with a new idea and he doubted he would get anymore sleep that night.

  


"There's one thing I'd like," Saku told him, snuggling deeper beneath the covers.

  


Kurama watched him a moment, lips twitching. "And what is that?"

  


"A story."

  


"Aren't you a little old for stories?"

  


"Nah," Saku said, grinning. "Only the ones that involve princes and fairies."

  


Kurama leaned back in his chair, shifting to get more comfortable. "At least you might be tired of _this_ story."

  


"I _like_ this story," the boy said as enthusiastically as he could. "_Please_, uncle?"

  


That did it. Kurama huffed an amused sigh. When the little one set his mind to something, he usually got what he wanted. At least Saku would fall asleep quicker this way . . .

  


"Many decades ago," Kurama began, "a thief decided to raid a shrine deep in the Makai. The shrine contained a large Sachi stone that was said to grant the owner's One True Wish. What the youko did not know was that Hunter–"

  


"Where?" Saku piped.

  


Kurama paused in his story. "Where what?"

  


"Where was the shrine?" Saku shrugged, a little lopsided because he was laying down. "I just wondered. You never go into much detail about it."

  


The redhead smiled and apologized. "I don't, do I? Very well, chibi." He leaned in close, so close that Saku could see flecks of gold in the emerald depths. "A secret between you and me," he whispered. "The temple is not guarded, but it is very difficult to find. To the west of Youko Kurama's old territory, there is a cave with a pool of water deep within it. If one looks into the pool at the fourth night of a full moon's cycle, then the surface will reveal the direction in which to travel for two days."

  


Saku listened in rapt silence. "The temple," Kurama continued, "reveals itself exactly at twilight and gives only one minute to take the Stone before it disappears again. All this happens only once a year, about this time actually, when the worlds are aligned just right."

  


"Why don't more people find the Stone?" Saku managed to ask, voice trembling.

  


Kurama rested his head on his arm propped on the bed, down to the boy's level. He smoothed the unruly black hair. "Most give up before they get close enough. Others never try to begin the journey because they are too scared."

  


"S-scared?"

  


"The Sachi Stone grants the One True Wish, what the owner may not even realize he desires more than anything else. That truth has stopped many who don't want to know what's in their deepest cores."

  


"Oh."

  


Kurama tucked the blanket more snugly around the small body. "Don't be afraid, chibi. The Makai is a whole other world away." He pressed his lips to the boy's forehead and straightened. "Get some sleep now, and remember that the weekend is coming soon. Your birthday is Saturday – we have a party planned that is sure to cheer you up."

  


"Thanks for the story," Saku murmured, struggling back a yawn.

  


Kurama laughed softly. "Next time I'll tell you something different. I think this one is much too outdated." He moved noiselessly to the door and opened it wider, turning back to add, "Good night, chibi."

  


"'Night," was the sleepy reply.

  


Saku waited until he heard Kurama enter the other bedroom, and rolled over to his other side. Achene was facing him, breathing slow and even in a presumed slumber. He studied her, studied her relaxed features that were similar to his own. They were by no means identical twins, but plenty of tiny similarities connected them together. Saku loved his sister, had been with her all his life. She was his best friend; sometimes, he thought, she was his only friend.

  


"So," he whispered, "what do you think?"

  


Achene opened her eyes and stared into the others that mirrored her own.

  


"That's what I'm thinking too." Saku lowered his voice even more, almost inaudible. "We can't tonight, but tomorrow . . . if I tell niichan that we have to stay late at school, then he won't suspect . . ." He puffed a sigh which stirred the little red strands across Achene's forehead. "Doesn't leave us much time . . ."

  


Achene seemed to ponder this. "Bara."

  


"You're right," Saku agreed. "He's the one we need to talk to. Father has his number written down at home . . . when we go there to get our stuff in the morning, we'll call. I just know he'll help us."

  


Saku did not sleep much that night, his little mind planning their adventure. He had to be prepared for anything – the Makai was as unpredictable as the seasons.

  


***

  


They filled their bookbags with clothes and supplies instead of books.

  


Sakukyo carefully chose each item he thought they needed to bring, from a warm sweater to a roll of toothpaste. They had been to the Makai a few times in the past as their father's way of showing them the demon side of their heritage. Saku knew they could find enough food there and so he only packed a few small metal dishes – a cup and plate for each of them.

  


He wasn't scared and, from what he could tell, Achene wasn't either. They were on a quest; for two children that meant new things and experiences, out on their own without any adults to guide them. But these two halflings were no normal children . . . 

  


The dangers they were heading into were very real and very foreign. Saku packed a pocketknife as well, a gift from their older brother a few years back.

  


Kurama dropped them off at the temple nestled in the woods, the home where they had been raised. Hiyaku gave them a half hour to get ready for school, precious time that Saku used to stuff their bookbags without the older youko noticing.

  


"Achene," Saku called, glancing at the door to make sure Hiyaku was not listening. "Is there anything else you want to bring?"

  


She walked over to a jar where she kept her collection of rose seeds and selected a few, tucking each into a tiny velvet pouch. Tying the pouch shut, she slid the string over her neck and hid it underneath the top of her dress.

  


"I guess that's it then," Saku said with a resigned sigh. "Come on – niichan's probably waiting for us." He shouldered his bag as Achene followed the motions, and they joined Hiyaku by the front door.

  


They usually walked to the closest bus top at the edge of the forest and took the bus downtown where Kit then dropped them off on the steps of the school. But Hiyaku hesitated as the bus approached and looked apologetically down at his two siblings.

  


"I'm already late," he said, indicating the rising sun. "And I have a meeting across town. Can you make it the rest of the way by yourselves?"

  


This was almost too easy. The city bus had many routes, not only to the school. "Hai!" Saku piped. "We're almost ten, right? We're big enough!"

  


Hiyaku grinned and ruffled the boy's hair. "That you are. All right, what time should I come this afternoon?"

  


Saku shifted his feet, regretting that he had to lie. For a greater good, he reassured his conscience. "We're working on a project and it'll take at least a few hours after school . . ."

  


"How about seven then? I'll meet you at the Onshitsu if you finish early."

  


"Kay." Saku grabbed Achene's hand, stepping to the edge of the street. The bus pulled up with a screech of its gears and Saku let his sister go in front. He turned back to wave at Hiyaku. "Take care, niichan! And don't worry about us!"

  


Hiyaku returned the wave until the bus disappeared down the road. He was a little perplexed; something in the air seemed . . . off. It was times like these that he felt like a second parent rather than a brother.

  


He shook out his long silver hair and straightened his tie. He really worried too much.

  


***

  


Saku's heard was beating rapidly, pounding like it would jump out of his chest. He slumped in his seat, wishing he could be as calm as his sister who sat there as if today was like any other normal day. No one paid much attention to them; the adults were all regular passengers and were used to the twins.

  


When the bus slowed, Saku's fear heightened. Through the window he could see the Junior High school. Then he felt the driver's eyes searching for him.

  


"You getting off?"

  


Saku swallowed, peering over the seat. "No, sir. Not today."

  


The driver nodded, not caring either way, and the bus roared onward.

  


"Close one," he whispered to Achene. He returned to the window, watching the buildings and other vehicles race by in a blur of color. They had to get far enough from the school and the surrounding area; getting caught would completely crash their little escape.

  


Besides that, the person letting them through the barrier had insisted that they go as far away as possible. Saku didn't trust the guy completely, but he knew what he was talking about. No witnesses meant no one could stop the twins from accomplishing their mission. There would be no second chances.

  


A soft tap on his arm brought Saku from his thoughts.

  


His sister was pointing to the opposite side of the bus, to a cloaked figure sitting on the seat next to them. "Bara," she told him.

  


He followed her gaze. The figure wrapped in the dark cloak was staring at them, and something about the person sent a shiver of expectation up Saku's spine. "That's no rose."

  


"You're a rude boy, aren't you?" said the figure, the voice obviously that of a woman.

  


"No, ma'am. I mean, I don't mean to be . . ." Saku glanced around the bus. No one was paying attention; they were nearly in the back and therefore alone. "Are you the one we're looking for?"

  


"I am," the other replied, sounding amused.

  


Saku was relieved. Now they didn't have to find their contact. "What should we do?"

  


"Rude _and_ too trusting."

  


He flushed. This person was teasing him, and Saku just wanted to get to the point. The sooner they entered the Makai, the sooner they could leave. He narrowed his eyes; he wouldn't be played with. "If you won't help us, we can find someone else."

  


"Whoa!" The woman held up her hands in a peaceful gesture. "Don't be hasty too! I'll help, but you really must lighten up!" She stood and pulled the string hanging above her head. "We'll stop here, thanks," she told the driver. To Saku, she turned friendly blue eyes. "Well, shall we go?"

  


Achene immediately slid off the seat, snatched her bag, and climbed into the aisle. More wary than before, Saku followed them both. When his sister made up her mind to do something, she was usually right.

  


The three of them stepped off the bus and watched it continue its path without them. Saku sighed to himself; no turning back now.

  


The woman heard his puff of breath. "Don't be nervous, young one."

  


"I'm not," he answered truthfully. "It's just . . . I've never been so far . . . and we're really doing this." He squared his shoulders, eyes serious as he focused on her. "Why are you helping us?"

  


She laughed warmly. "Let's just say that we're repaying a debt we owe your mother."

  


"A debt?" Saku blinked. "To . . . my mother?"

  


She suddenly looked guilty as if she had said something she shouldn't have. "Come on," she said, voice going gentle. "We'd better not wait anymore. There's a secluded alley about a half block from here that has our portal."

  


The twins shouldered their packs and the woman took them between two buildings where a door was leaning against one of the walls. "It's a small portal," she told him, tapping on the wood. "Neat, huh? You step in this side and come out on the other." Grasping the knob, she swung open the door. Where brick should have been was a sparkling mass of color, the substance that linked the two worlds together. A brisk wind emerged from the portal, tugging at their clothes; Saku caught a glimpse of blue hair from underneath the woman's hood.

  


"In you get. I can't keep it open for long."

  


Saku stared, wide-eyed, into the swirling mass. The Makai was on the other side . . . wild and dangerous and foreign.

  


"Sakukyo."

  


"All right!" he responded. "But I need to know – how do we get back?"

  


Confusion flashed across her face. "You wish, of course. Aren't you searching for the Stone?"

  


"Well, yeah," he stammered. "But–"

  


She pushed at them as the wind strengthened and tried to suck them in. "Go, go, young ones! Or it'll be too late!"

  


His feet slid through the gravel and Saku clamped onto Achene's arm. She turned her blank golden eyes to him and Saku saw something he had never seen in them before: a glimmer of hope.

  


"Okay," he said.

  


He stopped struggling against the wind and the twins were swept through the portal.

  


The woman slammed the door shut and it toppled off the wall, landing on the ground with a crash. She straightened, then wiped a hand over her brow.

  


"Whew!" She tossed back her hood, revealing a high ponytail and the collar of a pink kimono, and whipped out a small phone, punching in the first speed-dial number. As soon as it connected, she squealed, "Mission accomplished!"

  


"Good," said the voice on the other end. "I need you back here. There's a world leader about to die and we've misplaced his file."

  


"Be right there." She hesitated. "Koenma-sama, do you think they'll be safe?"

  


"No," he said bluntly. "No doubt many dangers await them. But they come from a line of survivors and they can make it to their goal. They _are_ youko, after all."

  


"Half," she murmured to herself. "And is that enough?" Louder, she replied, "I'm on my way."

  


She clicked the phone off and tucked it into her clothes. A great sweep of cloth and she had tossed away her cloak. She smoothed out her kimono and flipped her bluish hair off her neck. "I sure hope this is a good idea . . ."

  


Thrusting one hand above her head, she materialized a long piece of wood. She perched on the floating oar, gazing at the remains of the portal. "Good luck," she whispered, and flew quickly, unnoticed, into the clouds.

  


***

  


Saku landed hard, face smashed into gritty dust and legs sprawled gangly. It wasn't the entrance he had been hoping to make, and any bloodthirsty youkai would probably laugh rather than try to eat him. Frustrated, he pushed himself on his elbows as Achene emerged from the portal besides him with a much daintier landing.

  


"This always happens to me," he growled, ears flattened.

  


His sister crawled in front of him and lifted a section of her dress. The building anger faded when the cloth softly patted his face, wiping away the powdery dust. Saku gave her a miffed look, but let her continue until his face was clean.

  


"Sorry," he grumbled. "I shouldn't have snapped." He sat up, dusting off his shirt. "We're here, at least."

  


The area seemed to be friendly enough with gray trees and thick underbrush. The sky was a pale purplish unlike anything found in their own world and it captured Achene's attention for several minutes. Nothing seemed very hostile either, a few animalistic noises, some birds rustling the leaves above them.

  


Saku resisted putting his hands over his ears. Everything was so much more wild, and the voices of the surrounding foliage rang clear and insistent in Saku's head. He knew Achene could hear them too by the way she drew her eyebrows together.

  


This was Youko Kurama's old territory, no doubt about it. Over thirty years had passed, but his presence still covered everything, enveloping every stone and blade of grass. The feeling was comforting in a strange way, a touch of their uncle among this backward place. Though a bit different from the usual ningen-youko scent that hung around Kurama, the dark aura leaked into their senses and melded with them. The after-image of the youko thief recognized the blood relatives and welcomed them.

  


"We can't stay here for too long," Saku said. He was reluctant to leave the protection here, but their human scent would attract other youko and even the possessive aura of Youko Kurama would not thwart them for long. "To the west."

  


Achene instantly pointed.

  


"Good instincts," he grinned. "That's where we'll–" He halted, ears tilting forward. He could hear a faint voice touching the edge of his mind, calling him softly. "Achene, you hear that?" The girl just stared as if she didn't know what he was talking about. "It's coming from . . ." He jerked his eyes to the ground, to a tiny purplish flower no bigger than one of his fingers. ". . . there."

  


Lest he trample the thing, he carefully took a few steps back and sat on his knees, leaning over to get a closer look. "Hullo," he said quietly. "What are you doing so far from anything else?" He didn't expect the plant to answer him, but it _was_ growing amid only dry earth unlike the rest of the foliage. He reached one hand, pausing with his fingertips brushing its stem. "This okay?" he asked, then plucked the frail blossom. "We'll take you somewhere nicer," he promised it, and tucked the flower into his unruly hair. If his father had taught him just one thing, it was how to hide objects where no one would search.

  


He got to his feet and found Achene watching him, and for once he was a bit chilled by her blank gaze. "Stop," he mumbled. "You know how it feels."

  


She blinked slowly. "Bara . . ?"

  


He hunched his shoulders, stuck his hands into his jeans. "Yeah. Like that." She twisted to point again. "Are there roses in the West? Or . . ."

  


Saku went to his pack and slung it onto his back, surprised when his sister joined him and took his arm. Together, then, they would go.

  
  


*****

  


_Ari's Notes: Yes, there are meanings to the twins' names, as there usually are with my OCs._ ^^ __

  


_"Achene," was a really random word that I stumbled upon one day. I decided to do some research and was delighted when I discovered, according to Encyclopedia Britannica, "Achene" is a type of "dry, one-seeded fruit lacking special seams that split to release the seed. The fruits of many plants in the buttercup family and the rose family are achenes." Fate? I think so._

  


_"Sakukyo" is a bit simpler – saku: to bloom; kyo: cry._


	2. chapter 2

Chapter 2

  


The air was thicker in Makai than in the world both of the twins were familiar with – but, surprisingly, it was easier to breathe. They were also hundreds of miles from any major city and the air they inhaled was seemingly cleaner. One could almost feed on it, though Saku kept himself from gulping it down his mouth. The air may have been healthier than in the Ningenkai, but it left an unpleasant, metallic aftertaste. Saku dared not drink the rain, if they were unlucky enough to get caught in a storm. The droplets were likely to carry an even stronger taste – the taste of blood.

  


Stories told about Makai violence would haunt the minds of children. The Ningenkai was famous for its numerous petty wars and close-minded views, yet the Makai boasted that it had more than double the number of gruesome ways to die. In order to survive in the open, a youkai had to be paranoid, act like eyes were imbedded in the back of his head, if he did not actually have them.

  


The twins had been walking for several hours, steadily heading west away from the rising sun. Hiyaku would discover their absence by the evening and inevitably track them down. They had to travel as far as possible before then. They wouldn't have any other chances.

  


Saku nearly bumped into Achene as she stopped suddenly. Irritated, he stepped around her so he could see her face. He had learned long ago that she would reveal how she was feeling some way if he faced her; it was part of their bond as twins – sometimes he could just look into her small features and _know._

  


She paid no attention to him as Saku had predicted. He sensed that her inward sight was directed elsewhere.

  


"What is it?" he asked lowly.

  


"Bara," she responded, one hand curling to her chest.

  


"Where?"

  


She shuddered, blinked her golden eyes, and pointed with her other hand to a section of forest off the path they were following. Saku could not see anything, but that did not mean nothing was there.

  


He focused back on his trembling sister who had wrapped both arms around her thin frame. "I'll follow you."

  


She turned and ducked into the brush, ignoring the briars that tried to snare her dress and hair. She moved so fast that Saku had to scramble after her and catch up before she vanished ahead of him. At least her loose scarlet ponytail was easy to pick out among the grays and greens.

  


Saku felt a tiny mind nudge his own, coming from the flower in his hair. "I'm not scared," he muttered. "I just don't like not knowing what's gonna happen." He snapped his mouth shut, not wanting Achene to overhear, and used his thoughts instead. _"Do *you* know what it is?"_

  


The flower replied with a flash of jumbled images.

  


_"That doesn't help."_ He grimaced. _"Okay, okay, I understand. Now stop that – my head can't take it."_

  


The images eased off and the flower gave him a mental apologetic pat. Then it tried to explain and Saku only became more confused.

  


_"Can't you ask your brothers?"_ he questioned, meaning the multitude of foliage that made up the forest. He had always thought all plants were connected and could converse together. He listened, then emitted a quiet, _"Oh. Sorry. Didn't know . . . Why won't they talk to you?"_

  


His head became empty as the flower tucked itself deep inside its seed. The conversation had ended.

  


Saku mulled over this. Sometimes he understood plants more than he understood people, but this time he really was bewildered. According to everything he had learned from his father, his older brother, and his uncle, plants were not biased creatures by nature. They grew like their instincts urged them to grow, and each leaf and bud was a part of a greater entity; they were fiercely protective of territory if someone threatened it; they shared a deep bond with any person having silver youko blood as long as that person did not abuse the authority.

  


Saku knew all these things. But this flower did not seem to fit, this plant that had abandoned its fellows, that had let Saku pluck it from its roots, that Achene could not mentally connect with. What _was_ this thing?

  


Saku snapped out of his thoughts as Achene finally began to slow and crawled her way to the end of a clearing. He crouched beside her; she was panting quietly but the hands she braced on the earthy ground were steady. Her golden eyes were trained on whatever she could see in the clearing.

  


"What is it?" he murmured aloud. There came no reply, neither from his sister nor the flower entangled in his hair. The back of one hand lifted a few branches out of the way and he peered under them.

  


It was a small animal suspended in midair by a thin rope wrapped around one ankle. Its glossy pelt was a fine tan color, tapering into silver strands at its feet and belly.

  


"A fox," breathed Saku. Wanting a better look, he leaned forward and a twig snapped loudly under his knee. _Oops._

  


Pointed, furry ears twitched as the animal heard them, and it slowly – almost gingerly – raised its head to peer at them. Midnight black eyes swallowed Saku whole, eyes more intelligent than those of any animal the boy had seen before.

  


The flower in his hair reopened the connection between them enough to send Saku a broken message: _...a master..._

  


Saku withheld a gasp. More than a mere animal, this was a youko in kitsune form, its many tails fanned out behind him.

  


Because of his heritage, Saku knew more about youko than any normal human child might, but his knowledge was still severely limited. His uncle behaved like a ningen, his brother wished he _was_ a ningen, and his father . . . well, Father never tried to teach them much of anything anyway.

  


A shiver ripped into Saku. He had heard stories about wild youko, those that thieved by day and hunted the abnormalities of their kind by night. Hiyaku had been treated horribly just because his eyes were blue . . . What would happen to the twins with their human smell, discolored ears, and nonexistent tails?

  


Achene shifted beside him, acknowledging him for the first time by holding out a hand.

  


"No," he whispered fiercely.

  


She shook her hand; _give me_.

  


Saku swung his gaze back to the captured youko still staring at them. Something was wrong. The kitsune was being too still, movements too cautious. The trap was rigged and any tampering would spring a new fatal trap. Saku met the sharp onyx eyes, putting hostility in his own, and the emotion was not returned.

  


He found the pocketknife in his pack and pressed the cold metal to Achene's palm. He didn't have to tell her about the trap; she already knew.

  


Achene brought her feet under her, bared the gleaming blade of the pocketknife. Then she bolted from their hiding spot and raced toward the dangling fox faster than Saku had ever seen her move.

  


"Achene!" he cried, the name wrenched from his throat.

  


She leapt, pitching herself at the kitsune. The rope snapped under the blade and the hidden trap was sprung – a thin piece of metal that swung across her path. The small youko slammed into her chest and she rolled, the metal slicing right above her neck. They both tumbled roughly to the ground until Achene dug in her toes and skidded to a dusty halt.

  


Saku ran after her, but his steps faltered. She was not harmed . . . yet . . . "Achene," he mourned, "your- your hair . . ."

  


The reddish strands splayed freely about her shoulders and hid her face, less than half the length they had been seconds ago. The metal had caught her mass of hair and sliced cleanly through it.

  
  


//"...nine... ten!" the boy finishes with glee, opening his eyes. "Here I come!" He searches through the temple, checking under the sink, the closets, all the usual hiding places. Then he goes outside, romps through the bushes along the eastern wall.

  


A flash of scarlet. "Aha!" he cries, pouncing. The boy tackles the girl, sending them both tumbling, the boy giggling with delight. "I can always find you, sis, if I look for your hair!"

  


Cutting through the memory, a youko in fox form appears, a white glow surrounding him, making him seem ethereal. He fixes reflective black eyes on the boy.

  


Shall you release her, when she decides to carve her own path?//

  
  


Saku shook her head, shoving away the vision and the sudden chill it brought, and dropped to his knees beside Achene. He gingerly touched her shoulder.

  


She stirred. The youko was cradled in the circlet of her arms, multicolored tails wrapped tightly to his lithe body.

  


"Achene . . ." he began. He wanted to say 'get away from it,' but the youko would hear him and possibly become offended. "You okay?" he asked instead.

  


Gradually she lifted her head and a slight breeze feathered red strands over her shoulders. She loosened her arms, allowing the youko to rest on her lap. The kitsune unfurled his tails – odd, Saku thought, that each tail was a different color. Did he get into trouble with the other youko because he wasn't shaded right?

  


"Bara."

  


Saku swallowed. "I hardly think he's a rose, Achene." And when did Saku realize the youko _was_ a 'he'?

  


"Bara," she said again, more insistent.

  


The youko in question stretched out his limbs and then, as if suddenly noticing he was under scrutiny, righted himself and stepped off her lap. Saku fought the urge to grab Achene's hand and bolt.

  


The tan creature merely watched them a moment, black eyes clear and focused. With a flick of his tails, he turned and bounded gracefully into the brush, disappearing through the close-knit forest.

  


Achene rose to her feet, not bothering to pat her dusty clothes. Her mannerisms were easy to decipher and although Saku wanted to discuss what just happened, he knew as well as she that their time was severely limited.

  


"Okay," he agreed. "Let's move on."

  


***

  


In an empty temple, a phone rang, the sound hollow and echoing through the corridors. No one was there to answer. The children were traveling among foreign territory a whole dimension away; the father had vanished to an unknown place, enveloped in his own grief; the eldest son was giving a lecture on how to properly breed hydrangeas.

  


The ringing continued shrilly until the answering machine finally clicked over.

  


_"You have reached the household of Youko Kit. Leave a message and maybe I will return your call."_

  


Beep.

  


_"This is the principal at Achene and Sakukyo's middle school," said the caller. "I just wanted to make sure the children were doing all right, since they didn't come to school this morning. They usually have perfect attendance. I will try calling again later, Kit-san."_

  


A slight click as she hung up, and then the temple succumbed to the silence once more.

  


***

  


And he dreamed – or, at least, he thought it was a dream.

  
  


//Kit allows himself an upturning of lips as he observes the children at play. The boy is counting to ten, giving the girl enough time to hide before he opens his eyes again. His offspring do not know that their father watches.

  


The boy springs open his eyes, calling out, "Here I come!" He searches all the usual places, then runs outside.

  


Kit follows at a distance, watches the boy creep to the eastern wall. The sun is rising there, the orb dim and exhausted; it is brighter when it journeys to the west.

  


"Aha!"

  


Kit jerks his golden eyes back to his son who has discovered his daughter among the bushes.

  


"I can always find you, sis, if I look for your hair!"

  


A blue rose flutters to the ground at Kit's feet. Shall you release them, when they decide to carve their path?

  


"You are not Daini," Kit growls.

  


The rose disappears and a tan youko in kitsune form sits beside him, multicolored tails fanning in the warm breeze. Missed the point.

  


He snarls, flashing white fangs. "You do not know my children."

  


The other youko tilts his head, black eyes gleaming in the morning haze. And neither do you.//

  
  


Kit fisted the white cloth over his demon core, gasping for breath as he awoke from the dream. He sat up, careful not to fall off the branch he had been napping on, and waiting until he calmed. That dream . . . he had never seen such a youko before, thus a dream was all it could be.

  


He had slept long enough anyway, and his stomach demanded that he now hunt for food. Kit dropped to the ground in a flurry of silver hair and broke into an easy jog away from the city behind him.

  


***

  


"We really don't visit enough," Kurama commented as the temple's gate came into view. "Every time I see the kids they've changed."

  


Hiei stuck his hands inside the pockets of his cloak. "I thought youko mature rapidly."

  


"They do . . . usually . . . But I'm talking about their minds. They think differently."

  


"Take a look at their ancestry," Hiei said dryly, "and you might discover why."

  


Kurama flashed a grin. "If you don't like being around them, then why come with me?"

  


A snort. "Ningen school is still in session for another two hours. They are not here."

  


"Ah."

  


Kurama unlatched the gate and swung it open on rusty hinges. There was no need for any locks because the vines adorning the stone walls served more purpose than mere decoration. When Kurama touched them, the vines quivered and drew away to let them enter. They could have blocked anyone with negative intents; Kurama just wanted to borrow a few seeds from Hiyaku's collection.

  


"Too quiet," Hiei said, scarlet eyes scanning over the courtyard.

  


Kurama raised a brow. "No one is here. The kids are at school, Hiyaku at work, and Kit disappeared yesterday around noon."

  


Hiei seemed to accept that explanation, though his eyes narrowed a little. "He should get over it."

  


"Try telling _him_ that." The redhead pushed aside the main entrance, the sound echoing louder than it really was. "Hiyaku's room, I think, is in here . . ." He tailed off, moving to another section of the temple, leaving Hiei behind.

  


"I have," Hiei murmured to himself. The youko was too stubborn and Hiei sported many bruises after that because he had refused to lower his standards and fight back. A mourning youko was an unstable one and Kit had been tottering on the edge for ten years.

  


Not that Hiei disagreed with one's right to grieve, to remain buried within a certain emotion. Hiei himself had spent decades searching for his other half, falling into despair when Yukina moved even further beyond his reach. But Daini was dead – a finality that Kit refused to accept. And by not accepting he was dragging his kin down with him.

  


The mental chance Kurama had felt was not because the twins were maturing . . . Unlike their father, those children were more prone to action. Eventually they would tire of waiting for Kit to 'get over it' and decide to affect their own futures.

  


"Found them." Kurama came back into the room, tucking various seeds into the gray-streaked mane of his hair. "Hiyaku has quite the impressive collection." At Hiei's bored look, he cracked a smile. "I'm done. We can go now."

  


They made their way to the front entrance, but Kurama paused, noticing that the answering machine was blinking. "Wait a minute." He glanced at Hiei, then went over to the table and pressed the play button. "What if it's–"

  


A woman's voice interrupted his own.

  


They listened to the recorded message, the principle inquired where the children were, if they were sick, and that she was just concerned.

  


"Did they not go to school today?" Kurama wondered.

  


"The brat was responsible," Hiei grunted, meaning Hiyaku. "Call him and see."

  


"Right." Kurama held the receiver to his ear and punched the number of the university. The operator answered. "Youko Hiyaku, please," he said, "extension 1609." The lady connected him and Kurama let the phone ring until Hiyaku's voicemail clicked over. He sighed. "Not there. If he was keeping the kids out, wouldn't Hiyaku have left them at the apartment?"

  


"Left who?" the youko in question asked as he entered the temple, kicking off his shoes.

  


Kurama turned to him. "Didn't think you'd be here anytime soon."

  


Hiyaku brushed silver bangs from his forehead. "I'm off for lunch." He peered at them. "Who were you talking about?"

  


"Saku and Achene. You could've just left them at our place and let them sleep in."

  


Hiyaku gave a puzzled look. "Why would I do that? They had tests today in school."

  


Kurama and Hiei shared a glance. "They aren't there," Hiei clipped.

  


"What?"

  


Kurama gestured to the answering machine. "I checked your messages and there was one from the school principal. The kids never showed up."

  


Blue eyes widened. "I saw them get on the bus myself! Surely they wouldn't wander off and get lost . . . what if someone–"

  


Hiei cut off the youko before Hiyaku could work himself into a panic. "I have seen their instincts and they can take care of themselves. The problem is not a kidnaping."

  


"You mean . . ." Hiyaku's ears drooped and the light dimmed in his eyes. "I should have listened more last night. Saku was acting funny . . . more depressed than usual. I just thought . . . well, you know, given the circumstances . . ."

  


"I noticed too," Kurama nodded. "They can't have gone far in four hours. Hiei?"

  


The youkai hooked a finger under the cloth binding his forehead, and freed his third eye. The Jagan opened, purple and bright as Hiei searched. "Not far?" he restated, raising a brow. "How about: not even in the Ningenkai?"

  


"What?" both youko exclaimed.

  


"I can't locate their chi," Hiei said calmly, securing the cloth back over the Jagan. "Which means they are either somewhere else or dead."

  


Hiyaku looked sick.

  


"And," Hiei continued, "since I am certain their deaths would have been detected, they can only be somewhere else."

  


"The Reikai?" Hiyaku suggested hopefully.

  


"I don't think so." They focused back on Kurama who had crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders. He sighed guiltily. "Saku was overly curious last night. I thought it was because he wanted to avoid discussing his parents, so I decided to humor him."

  


"Kurama," Hiei huffed, rolling his eyes. "You didn't."

  


"I did," the youko corrected. His tone turned defensive. "The child is always asking questions. How was I supposed to know he was being manipulative?"

  


"But to tell him _that_."

  


"Lost here," Hiyaku chimed.

  


"I didn't know!" Kurama said, spreading his hands. "A thief shares such a secret only once and Saku seemed like a good choice. It's not like I expected him to follow it!"

  


"Hold a minute!" Hiyaku said louder and both of the others paused in their argument. "Kurama, _what_ did you tell Saku?"

  


Kurama focused his attention to the wall. ". . . how to find the Sachi Stone."

  


Hiyaku's already pale skin turned several shades paler, and blue nearly swallowed his face. "S-Sachi? The- the same Stone that you- you used to be reborn?"

  


Another sigh. "The same."

  


"And- and now my younger siblings have decided to run off and _find_ this Stone?"

  


"Uh-huh."

  


His chin quivered. "I'm so dead."

  


Hiei snorted. Gods, sometimes he really hated being right. "Those kids are dead unless we find them soon."

  


"No, no," Hiyaku protested, shaking his head. "You don't understand. I'm supposed to be watching out for stuff like this – Kit even warned me before he left that the twins (well, Saku) had been asking more questions than usual, about anything from Daini to the _Jiyuu_ moon's cycle and effects. Father's not completely oblivious . . ." He whimpered, a fang digging into his bottom lip. "But apparently I am."

  


"An attitude like that won't solve anything."

  


"Hiei's right," Kurama said. "It will only hinder us. We have to find the children before something happens to them."

  


"But how?" Hiyaku wondered. "They could have gone anywhere in the Makai!"

  


Kurama bit his thumb, thinking. "Not exactly. If they're looking for the Sachi Stone then our searching range narrows considerably. And if we interrogate the one who allowed them to pass through the gateway, then . . ."

  


"Then at least we have a starting place."

  


"I have an idea," the redhead said, narrowing his eyes, "of who let them through. There are only two people who have access to a Ningenkai/Makai portal, and Yuusuke would never have let the children through."

  


"The brat prince meddles once again," Hiei muttered. "Great."

  


"He had best have a good reason. Hiyaku," Kurama told the younger youko. "Do you know where Kit is?"

  


Blue eyes were apprehensive. "He keeps himself cloaked and his mind closed to me."

  


"But if you tried?"

  


Hiyaku nodded. "I could ask the korokus seeds he keeps in his hair and they might show me where he is."

  


"That will do." Kurama swept a hand under his bangs, his mind racing to form some sort of plan. "Hiyaku, bring Kit to the Reikai if you can locate him soon enough. Hiei and I will go ahead of you and have a chat with Koenma. We'll leave from there."

  


"Hai!" Hiyaku grabbed his discarded shoes and fled as swiftly was he could. Kit would stay away from any cities so Hiyaku had to first leave the buildings and humans behind.

  


Kurama stood in the front entrance, hands tucked within his jacket pockets. "Why must history repeat itself?"

  


"Is it?" Hiei replied. "I thought it was heading in a much different direction. And it will end differently too."

  


"I'm not so sure."

  


Hiei frowned. "They can't find the Stone; the elements are all off. You aren't the only one to ever covet the piece of rock – when I tried, I never even found the pool."

  


Kurama managed a wry smile. "That's the point. The Stone is found only when it wants to be found. If it decides to reveal itself to the children, they could somehow stumble upon the temple without knowing how they got there. We have to hurry. Once they look into the pool, we have only two days to find them before the Stone."

  


***

  


As they traveled, Saku had not said a word since Achene had freed the youko in kitsune form. Achene walked a few paces in front and to the left of him. Her head was bowed though she found her way under branches, and over or around jutting rocks. Saku wished he knew what was going on inside her head.

  


They passed a brook and Saku caught her arm, stopping her. "Want a drink?"

  


In answer she pulled a cup from her pack and knelt beside the thin stream, filling it with cool water. Saku did the same, savoring the crisp taste on his parched tongue. It wasn't a particularly hot day, but the water was a nice relief nonetheless.

  


They should reach the pool soon, Saku thought, since they hadn't strayed off course.

  


Achene's cup clattered among the rocks. Saku frowned, seeing her tense frame and the way her ears were flattened. Something was wrong.

  


"Achene–" he began.

  


The girl cried out, cutting through his words. She fell to her knees and clasped the sides of her head, fingers tangling in the short strands of her hair.

  


Seconds later, a youkai sailed over her, claws barely missing her neck. The beast had been crouched behind them, hidden, waiting for the right moment to attach. Achene had ducked just in time . . .

  


It landed in the stream, water scattering as it slid a few feet. "Ningen," it snarled, baring deadly fangs. "I smell ningen."

  


Saku was frozen, golden eyes flickering frantically from the youkai to Achene who was shaking and rocking on her heels. He could not move, paralyzed by a fear he had never experienced before. "Achene . . ." he whimpered. "Run . . ."

  


The youkai shifted its clawed feet, preparing to spring again.

  


The flower tucked within Saku's hair nudged the boy's mind with its own, and suggested a course of action.

  


_"I can't," _Saku begged. _"I'm not strong enough."_ "Achene!" he shouted aloud.

  


Hissing, the youkai drew back as if struck, but it wasn't the half-youko that it focused on. Between the youkai and Achene, a white glow gradually appeared, brightening until it solidified into a small animal. The youko in kitsune form twitched his furry ears, shedding the white glow like slivers of moonlight. His tails, too numerous to count, fanned behind in multicolored waves.

  


He stared at the prone girl, and Saku took a few hesitant steps toward her.

  


"Have them, if you want them!" the hostile youkai growled low in its throat. It melted into the shadows, leaving the children with the kitsune.

  


Saku moved closer and when the youko merely blinked calm, black-coal eyes, Saku scrambled to Achene's side. He called her name, grasping her shoulders, but she paid no attention. She had stopped trembling and was returning the intense gaze of her rescuer. They were locked in a silent exchange, and Saku could only watch.

  


Finally, the vulpine creature stood on its four paws and leapt gracefully across the stream to the other side, vanishing among the brush.

  


"W-who _is_ that?" Saku wondered.

  


"Bara," was the reply. Achene brought a hand to her chest and touched the pouch of seeds there. "Bara . . ." she repeated, softer.

  


Saku did not argue this time. His sister had just been saved by a youko who they knew nothing about, and he had done so of his own free will. The youko was obviously following them; Saku wasn't sure if he should be comforted . . . or wary.

  


He looked toward the direction where the youko had vanished and caught a glimpse of silver and blue.

  


"Achene," Saku whispered, fearing the image would fade away if he blinked. "We found it . . ."

  


Achene followed his line of sight and stiffened beside him. Her warm hand slowly crept into his own, squeezed his fingers. They started forwards, the forest seeming to part before them, the branches pulling back and not hindering them.

  


The pool was encased in a shallow well made of gray-silver stone and shiny jewels, and it seemed out of place in the thick forest. The air hummed and no breeze rippled the glassy water.

  


The flower begged Saku to go back, leave this place. _"No,"_ he murmured. _"I can't go back now."_ And he realized he didn't want to.

  


The twins reached the pool, placed their trembling hands along the cool edge. They glanced at each other, then leaned over to peer at the surface.

  


There was no reflection and the pool swallowed them whole.


	3. chapter 3

Chapter 3

  


_Father, where *are* you?_

  


Hiyaku ran as fast as his lanky legs would carry him, springing from tree to tree, a silver shape among the shadows. It was already near dusk and the children had been missing for over seven hours . . .

  


The young youko's stride was considerably slower than it had been at first; running almost nonstop had exhausted him. He was tired of chasing false trails, being led in circles by the forest around him. _This way_, the leaves assured him, and then no one would be there and the branches would close behind him. When caught between two masters, the foliage chose to obey the eldest – and strongest – and Kit bested Hiyaku by more years and strength than the youth cared to imagine.

  


He snarled silently, and felt satisfied when the traitorous green voices in his head fell quiet. He tried to directly contact Kit again and strong mental shields nearly tossed him off his feet.

  


"Father!" he wanted to shout. "Get over it!" But he held his tongue; he had no right to cheapen Kit's mourning that way. He felt somewhat the same.

  


Instead he continued the original plan and sent another message to the korokus seeds undoubtedly tucked inside Kit's hair, the seeds that meant so much to Kit. _"Please help me find him," _he pleaded. _"I know you are protecting him, but his kids are in danger and he has to come with us."_ Hiyaku paused, eyes sad. _"Daini would've wanted . . ." _He couldn't finish, and sent an image of a girl with long black hair and violet eyes.

  


Silence.

  


_Nearby,_ came the response from the seeds. _Waterfall._

  


Hiyaku sighed, relieved, and thanked them. He could already hear the rush of water and headed toward the sound. The waterfall was large but not overwhelming, and Hiyaku sought it out easily enough, landing beneath the foaming stream. He did not see the older youko.

  


"Kit," he called.

  


No answer, of course. A youko that did not desire to be found was a youko who was _not_ found.

  


"I know you're here," he added. "I'm not leaving."

  


The hinted threat was enough. No one liked a nagging cub, especially not one with a rambling tongue like Hiyaku. Kit appeared on a ledge beside the waterfall, looking like he had been cleaning dinner. Golden eyes flashed. "How did you find me?"

  


"I ran," Hiyaku said without humor. He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I came to bring you back."

  


Kit snorted. "I do not need to be _brought_. I will return on my own in five days."

  


"We can't wait that long." Hiyaku inwardly cringed, dreading Kit's next reaction. "Father– Achene and Saku are missing."

  


But the youko only turned his back and resumed skinning his catch. "Did Kurama put you up to this? Because it sounds like his kind of game to pull me from my depression, as he calls it."

  


"No, he didn't. The twins have been missing since this morning." Hiyaku swallowed and pushed forward. "They- they went to the Makai to search for the Sachi Stone and make some wish that we don't even know about."

  


"Sachi . . ?" Kit echoed quietly. He bowed his head, silver hair hiding his face.

  


_//"You do not know my children."_

  


_And neither do you.//_

  


"That is their choice."

  


Hiyaku balled his hands into fists. "How can you say that? Kit, _Father_, they're out there all by themselves. They need you to–"

  


"_Need_ me?" Kit jerked back around angrily. "Those cubs need nothing from me. Not my presence nor my history and certainly not my pain."

  


"You're wrong," Hiyaku denied, hurt-filled eyes shining brightly. "When Daini died, you showed me that you could be a father and that's exactly what I needed. Achene and Sakukyo may be older than I was then, but they still need what you gave me. Father, I've been with you longer than anyone, Youko Kurama aside, and I know that somewhere inside you want to protect our family. You aren't alone anymore."

  


Hearing nothing from the youko, Hiyaku sighed and prepared to leave the waterfall glade. "I'm going to the Reikai to meet Hiei and Kurama. If you decide to help . . ." He let the suggestion hang in the damp air, and took off the way he had arrived.

  


About an hour later, Kit caught up to him, eyes hard and far away.

  


"Did you mean it?"

  


"I meant all of it," Hiyaku responded.

  


"No, not that." Kit was focused straight ahead as they ran. "Did you mean it when you said you did not know what they would wish for?"

  


"Oh." He increased their pace, a new energy quickening his limbs. "Yeah, I meant it. Why?"

  


"Because I have an idea about their wish." His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. "Who let them into the Makai?"

  


Hiyaku swallowed again, nervously.

  


***

  


The blue-haired ferrygirl bowed again in apology. "I'm so sorry but Koenma-sama is really busy!" She was blocking their entrance to the prince's office, her back pressed against the door. "I can't do anything for you."

  


"Botan," Kurama said gently yet sternly. "I'm sure he'd take five minutes to speak to us, if you told him we were here."

  


"He's busy! You can just leave, please?" Her face was hopeful.

  


"There are two children wandering around the Makai, Botan, and Inari only knows what might've happened to them already." He took a step toward her and she flinched. "They couldn't have entered by themselves."

  


"I'm sorry,' she wailed, flapping the long sleeves of her kimono. "Koenma-sama made me promise not to tell anyone that he was involved!"

  


Kurama and Hiei shared a glance.

  


Botan paled and her blue eyes turned glassy. "I didn't just say that . . ."

  


"We're not angry with you," Kurama said.

  


"But the youko will be," Hiei snorted.

  


The redhead gave him a frown. "We need to know exactly where the twins entered Makai. And . . . Hiei's right. Kit _will_ be angry when he finds out, and things will go much nicer if we talk to Koenma first."

  


She shook her head. "I- I can't . . ."

  


Kurama sighed. "Then we have no choice than to take other measures of action."

  


"Such as–" said the youkai. He blurred toward Botan, who let out an "eep," and tossed open the door, sending the girl stumbling backward and falling on her rump. "–force."

  


"Our apologies," Kurama added, stepping over her. "You understand."

  


Koenma sat behind his desk, glaring at them over a stack of papers. "You don't have an appointment and I'm several weeks behind. I don't have time to talk to you right now."

  


"But yet you had time to authorize the entry of two half-ningens into the Makai?"

  


The godling waved a chubby hand. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  


"Oh?"

  


They turned to see Kit standing tall in the doorway, tail fluffed with restrained anger. Kurama mentally sighed; there went their 'nicer' approach. Well, at least Kit was here.

  


"Hello," Hiyaku chimed, peeking over his father's shoulder. "Sorry we're late. Took me awhile to find him."

  


"Good job," Kurama said. "We thought you'd have to give up." Kit cut his eyes away and ignored the implied jab that his counterpart had made. "We were just interrogating our dear friend Koenma here and he's being a bit stubborn, so you haven't missed much. Now," he said to the godling, "what were you saying?"

  


Koenma's face turned several shades lighter, and he slammed a fist onto his intercom. "George!"

  


"Do not bother." Kit flung a piece of wire onto the desk, and the ends were frayed like it had been ripped from the wall. "He cannot hear you." 

  


"Damn spirit! It took us months to get that system installed properly!"

  


A growl burned low in Kit's throat, but Kurama held up a calming hand. "Botan-san," he said to the girl still sitting on the floor. "Please shut the door so we aren't interrupted. This should be kept within the walls of this office." Glancing at Koenma, she nodded and did as he asked. "Koenma, we tried to make things easier, but our patience is at an end. Will you tell us what you know or should we go higher?" _To Enma_, was left unspoken but the silence threat worked its magic.

  


Koenma slumped in his seat, setting aside his stamp. "Not necessary. I'll tell you what you want to know."

  


"Koenma-sama . . ." Botan whimpered.

  


He ignored her, child-like eyes surveying the small group before him. "I received a call early this morning from a certain young boy by the name of Sakukyo. I had been expecting such a call from him, but not for several more years, and certainly not about what he wanted. He said he and his sister wanted me to open a portal into the demon world so they could search for the Sachi Stone. What they would wish for, I don't know."

  


"So you just let them in?" Kit pressed forward but Hiyaku held him back. "They are mere children!"

  


Koenma gave him an impersonal look. "'Just let them in'? Hardly not. The portals aren't for personal trips." He paused, then rechecked himself, and continued, "And after the boy called me, I went and asked what I should do."

  


"Who," Kit spat, "would have the authority over what _my_ children do?"

  


Koenma snorted. "Who do you think?"

  


"Who do I–" The youko stopped, slapped in the face, and his hands trembled before he wrapped his arms across his chest. "D-Daini . . ."

  


"The same." The contempt faded from his voice. "Souls don't vanish when they come here. You know that."

  


Sensing Kit's sudden discomfort, Kurama took over. "Ah, even if you had some sort of permission from Daini, why would you let them into the Makai? You said there was another reason other than searching for the Stone?"

  


"No, I _said_ the portals aren't meant for personal trips. I said nothing about the children having other motives."

  


"So there's someone else involved?" Hiyaku blinked when five pairs of eyes focused on him. "That's what he's implying. If Saku and Achene went into Makai merely for their own personal reasons, and the portals aren't meant for that, then clearly there's someone else who has another reason for my brother and sister going there . . . right?"

  


"So a smart youko does exist after all," Hiei muttered. A slender hand buffed him on the back of the head, and Hiei added a curt, "Except for you."

  


Kurama grinned at him. "Hiyaku's logic makes sense. Who came to you, Koenma?"

  


The godling looked at the shut door, seeming ready to bolt. He was trapped. Even if he reached the door, there was still the one standing beyond it. "I knew I should've stayed out of it. Didn't I say I would never be involved in youko affairs again?" He grabbed his hat, pulling it low over his head. "Never again, I told myself. Let the youko work out their own affairs!" He jabbed an accusing finger at Kurama. "You! You started this! You should have accepted Inari's offer and saved us all a lot of paperwork."

  


The redhead rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. Seriously you aren't bringing this up again."

  


"Seriously, I am. If you had just accepted like a good silver youko, then thirty years ago I wouldn't have had to bend the rules so you could enter the body of a human, and I wouldn't be sitting here right now playing go-between to an animal god and his mismatch group of rebellious followers!"

  


Hiei lifted a thin eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

  


"You aside,' Koenma snapped.

  


"Does this have a point?" Kurama asked, "because you're treading on dangerous ground."

  


"That's how it always is, isn't it? With you youko? The past is never in the past. You keep dredging it up and forcing other people – like _me_ – to help you smooth it over again and again. And then you get angry when I mention a part of it."

  


Hiyaku scratched one of his fuzzy ears in a nervous gesture. "This isn't making any sense. W-what were you saying about an animal god . . ?"

  


"One time," Koenma continued to ramble, "one time I'm going to shut my door right in his face and–"

  


The pieces clicked together. A dull roar thundered their ears and Hiyaku let go of Kit, backing out of the frozen heat that had surrounded his surrogate father.

  


"Inari . . ." the youko growled. "Inari is responsible for this?"

  


"Of course," Koenma said, unfazed by the sudden hostility. He had given up on escaping this feud long ago. "Who else were you thinking?"

  


Kit snarled and Kurama stepped between them, his face smooth but stern. "Don't, Kit. The prison time is not worth it." His emerald eyes were shining fiercely, understanding, pledging to help in any way he could. Kurama's anger was not directed at Koenma, but at the one Koenma spoke about. Once he had a slight nod from his brother, Kurama turned his gaze upon the Reikai Prince. "Is Inari here?"

  


"Oh, he's here," the godling said, the emotion gone from his face. "Would you like to speak to him?"

  


"No," both Kurama and Kit said at the same time. Hiyaku made some sort of intelligible squeak.

  


"Fine. If you want into the Makai, I can have a portal ready soon enough. The children were sent to the outskirts of Youko Kurama's old territory at about 7:30 this morning. Where they are now, I don't exactly know, but their position can be estimated around twenty kilometers from there."

  


"It's enough information to start," Kurama said. "The more time we spend talking, the farther away the children are going to reach."

  


"Then let's go," Hiei concluded. "We have spent long enough in this world already."

  


"Botan," Koenma said to the ferrygirl. "Show them to the portalmaker, will you?"

  


"H-Hai." She opened the door and stood beside it, waiting for them to exit.

  


Kit did not move. "I have one more question . . . When you went to Daini, did you tell her what the twins were doing? Did . . . did she understand the dangers?"

  


"I didn't want to worry her," Koenma answered. "I told her that they were doing something alone and I didn't know why."

  


Kit's golden eyes were intent, focused. "And her reply?"

  


"She said, 'let them follow it.' I assume you know what she meant."

  


"No," he murmured, visibly drawing back inside himself. "I do not."

  


Koenma watched them file out of the office and he could tell by their reactions that no one was out in the hallway. Concentrating a moment, he shape-shifted into his older, adult form, smoothing his clothes. He waited as patiently as he could, the fingers of one hand drumming the desk. Not too long after, the door opened and a towering figure filled up the space, head brushing the ceiling, silver tails swirling about his ankles.

  


"You almost told them."

  


Koenma leveled a weary gaze on the other god. "I'll have no part in this anymore. I did what you asked, now leave."

  


Inari laughed, coldly. "You have no choice. As Prince of Reikai, you are obligated to protect the ningens."

  


"Which means my obligation stops beyond the half-breed twins."

  


The youko came and sat in the chair opposite Koenma, too tall to stand comfortably in the small office. "And the two former Reikai Tantei? Are they not valuable enough for you?"

  


"Still–"

  


"And Kit? Hiyaku?" Inari pressed. "The blue-eyed one is as much a Ningenkai citizen as any ningen, and the other . . . well, you took his light away. Surely that means you owe him something."

  


"What do you want from me?" Koenma whispered.

  


Inari stretched out long legs. "Only your cooperation." His black eyes gazed out from beyond heavy lids. "Give me the souls of those two children."

  


"I already told you – that is beyond my power."

  


"Then give me the girl, only the girl."

  


"I cannot. Their souls are already linked to the human world and their folders were created a decade ago."

  


"Then break the links and rip up the folders." Inari narrowed fathomless eyes. "You did it once before."

  


Koenma glanced at the door, almost expecting Botan to return. He was being cornered; he hated being forced to do something. "They were altered, not destroyed. There is a large difference between altering for the Ningenkai and altering for the Makai."

  


"So Urameshi is an exception to this rule?"

  


"Yuusuke's soul is still tied here. He just lives in the Makai."

  


The first spark of anger tightened the straight line of Inari's broad shoulders. "I have let three of my kind – and silvers, no less – live freely in your world, despite how much I have wanted otherwise."

  


"All three of them rejected you." Koenma shrugged. "I had nothing to do with it."

  


The air grew warmer, raising the fine hairs on the back of Koenma's neck. "Now these two children are calling out to me and you refuse my request? The blood in their veins flows equal parts of ningen and youko. I should have the right to claim at least one of them!"

  


Koenma was not stupid. He caught the slight panic in that deep voice. Inari needed at least one of those children . . . but why, Koenma did not know. "They aren't possessions," he said calmly.

  


Inari barked a harsh laugh. "This coming from the one who trapped Urameshi into the role of Reikai Tantei! I _need_ one of them, godling, and I am quite able to use means other than persuasion."

  


A threat? The switch from want to need also did not go unnoticed. "I'm assuming you're already carrying out this 'other means.' I thought we had agreed we would meet and discuss before making any moves."

  


"And so we have discussed. Now that you've refused to assist me, I will turn to another course of action."

  


"Haven't you already?" Koenma asked mildly. "Before we even met?"

  


Inari waved a pale, dismissive hand. "Of course not. I may be the 'god of tricksters and thieves' but I am not an oath-breaker."

  


"You mean, you haven't . . ." An insulted and slight miffed look from the youko confirmed it. Koenma cursed under his breath, causing Inari to raise a thin eyebrow. Pounding a fist onto the speaker, he called, "George!" before remembering the line was dead. Koenma jumped from his chair, stalked to the door, and tossed it open. "_George!_"

  


"Sir!" The oni skittered around the corner. "Yes, Koenma-sama?"

  


"Bring me the graphs from a few hours ago, of Makai Sector 4.1.20. And get the wires fixed!" The oni saluted and took off down the hallway. Koenma returned to his chair and began shoving folders and scattered papers off his desk in a flurry of white and black ink.

  


Inari watched him with an unamused expression. "Explain yourself, godling."

  


Koenma stopped once his desk was cleared, wiping his hands on his shirt. "GEORGE!"

  


"Found them!" The oni rushed into the room, carrying an armful of rolled parchment. "I'm sorry, Koenma-sama, but it was hidden beneath–"

  


"Leave us," the godling said, not looking up. George hesitated, then shut the door behind him.

  


Inari leaned over the desk, peering at the parchment Koenma spread across the desk. "Keeping tabs on the Makai?'

  


"I trust," Koenma said lowly, "this information will be kept within this office."

  


"Depends."

  


The Reikai Prince nodded, accepting the terms. "Our Sight in the Makai is severely limited, but we can take something like a photograph of power readings in a certain area for a few seconds at a time. I took this one minutes after the half-breeds arrived." He pointed to two tiny dark-gray smudges among the swirling sea of lighter gray. "Here they are. Then, to track their health, I took another about four hours later." He flipped to anther section and tapped the same two gray spots. "They are still here, but . . ." His finger slid across the parchment and halted above a large blur. ". . . someone else is with them."

  


Inari had grown very still, tails tucked close round his muscular body. Coal-black eyes stared down at the large blur, unblinking and cold. "A youko."

  


A bit snidely. "Yet you haven't sent anyone."

  


Those eyes shifted to the godling, burning low. "You meddle in an affair that is no longer yours. Your hand cannot stretched over and touch the Makai." No emotion registered in the deep voice, and his eyes turned distant. "The collapse is approaching and will occur without these children and the One True Wish. Surely he must realize this."

  


Koenma placed his hand over the large gray smear. "Then you know who he is?"

  


"Of course," was the slightly dry reply. "He is the only one that can stop me."


	4. chapter 4

Chapter 4

  


Everything was dim, and Saku felt like he was walking through a thick haze, his limbs heavy, his eyes clouded.

  


He couldn't find his sister. She had been right beside him, peering over the edge of the pool, and when the cold mist had enveloped Saku, she had vanished. He was alone among the blackness. He opened his mouth to call her name and it echoed hollow and empty.

  


Maybe he was dreaming. It felt like some kind of dream, like being unable to run because really one is laying in bed, wrapped up in white sheets. He came to some sort of invisible barrier, and managed to catch himself on his hands before smacking into it. A thin beam of light streamed from above and lit up a circular pool of water about a meter wide.

  


A youko knelt beside the pool, silver hair concealing his face. Saku had never seen the youko form of his uncle, though he'd heard it was similar to his father's, but he somehow knew this youko was Kurama. Youko Kurama – before he was reborn as a human.

  


As Saku watched, Youko Kurama leaned forward and dipped his hand into the clear pool. He brought it out again, liquid silver dripping through his fingers, and lifted it to eye-level. Whatever he saw cupped in his palm caused a triumphant smile on the youko's smooth face. Then he poured the water into the pool and rose to his feet, heading in a direction known only to him.

  


"Kurama!" Saku called. "Help me! Come back!"

  


Youko Kurama continued on and his pale shape faded to black.

  


Saku pressed his hands against the barrier. He needed to get to that pool and look into its waters. It was what he and Achene had traveled so far for. If they lost this moment . . .

  


Where Youko Kurama had been, Achene appeared, her skirt tucked neatly beneath her legs as she knelt. Saku couldn't see her face surrounded in the scarlet curtain of her hair, and the link between them was currently severed. Achene, mirroring their uncle's movements, immersed her hand into the water.

  


"Wait, Achene!" he cried. What if he couldn't see what she saw? What if she left him here, trapped alone forever behind this glass structure? "Achene!"

  


A comforting mind touched his. Saku looked down at his feet, eyes growing huge as he noticed the large . . . strange . . . flower beside him. He yelped and scrambled to the far end of the wall. The presence in his head shrank away and the flower visibly wilted because of his reaction.

  


"Y-You're . . . that flower I picked . . ." He recognized the shape and violet petals, but the plant had what looked like _fangs_. "But how . . ."

  


The comfort warmed Saku's mind again, twinged with a tentative apology. Saku sank to his knees before the flower, swallowing. "You trusted me, now I'm . . . You aren't a normal flower, are you?"

  


It fluttered its petals proudly.

  


Saku stretched out a hand, hesitated inches from touching. "I've heard Makai plants are evil. I've heard they can overcome their masters if- if they are stronger." It quivered and pressed its softness against Saku's fingers. "Okay," he whispered, "but only if you explain things later."

  


An enthusiastic affirmative rang in Saku's mind. Shifting closer, Saku carefully grasped the slender green stem and tried not to panic when the flower sprouted and enveloped his hand, creeping up to wrap long vines around his arm.

  


"W-warm," he murmured, stumbling to his feet. This thing was alive and pulsating; he could feel its warmth through his sleeve. How was this possible, he wondered, but he remembered that he was in the Makai and this plant was a Makai plant – not natural by any sense of the word. A fleeting thought passed through him, that maybe the flower was using Saku's heat and energy, and then it urged him to turn around and look at the pool again.

  


Achene wasn't alone like she had been moments ago. A youko stood behind her, his fox ears tilted forward as if listening. He was about medium height, ash-blonde hair falling neatly past his shoulders, his light-colored tail reaching to his ankles. He was wearing a simple black shirt and black slacks, and his off-white coat billowed about his legs upon a wind that did not stir his hair nor that of Achene. Saku wasn't sure if Achene even knew the youko was there.

  


"Is he bad?" Saku asked the fanged flower. "Will- will he hurt her?"

  


His companion had no answer.

  


The girl pulled her hand from the pool, crystal water cupped in her palm, and raised her head. Her blank expression stayed the same but the eyes of the youko behind her widened slightly.

  


A white flash and Saku saw what they were seeing: a small temple nestled in the sky that drifted to the ground at precisely midnight of the second day. It lay in the West, nearly exactly the same direction they had already been traveling in.

  


"There it is," Saku said. "That place has the Sachi Stone." The flower encasing his arm chimed a mental question. "Yeah. That's where we're going. Sorry, shoulda told you sooner." He tapped the invisible barrier. "So all we have to do is focus and this'll vanish? Let's try it." Saku pushed his little power out of his body and toward the barrier, but the glass-like surface shattered before he was able to do anything.

  


The fanged flower shifted along his arm and ducked behind his back. Saku scowled at it. He noticed the youko was now observing them with slight amusement.

  


"Who- who are you?" Saku asked, trying to keep his words steady.

  


Shall you release her, when she decides to carve her own path?

  


Saku blinked. The youko had not moved his lips, yet Saku had heard his voice – like a youko in kitsune form might use his telepathy to communicate. The voice was low and pleasant, a soft tenor that challenged without demanding.

  


"I don't understand," Saku responded. "Release Achene? I-I'm not . . ." He bit his tongue to stop any potential rambling. "Who are you?"

  


I am what you see. I have no name, but call me Bara if you must. I am one who desires to help you.

  


"H-Help?" Saku lurched forward, an unsteady grin tugging at his lips. "We definitely could use it! I mean, we're looking for the Sachi Stone, and do you think you might be able to help us along the way?"

  


The youko's black eyes turned melancholy. She is traveling a path different from your own. Shall you release her?

  


Saku blinked rapidly, clearing the mist forming over his vision. Despair was leaking into his heart. "You aren't making any sense. Achene and me have always been together and I take care of her and she does these things to herself. If- if she wanted something else, then that decision has nothing to do with me." He felt the warmth of the flower pressing against his back, giving him reassurance and courage. "Maybe I'm not what's holding her back. Maybe there's something that I'm not asking the right questions about."

  


Ah. There are other questions you might ask.

  


"Like why you're here. And why I dreamed that a kitsune with your voice asked me the same thing you did."

  


The one called Bara lowered his head, chuckling lightly. When he again gazed at the boy, the sadness was gone. He underestimates you. Perhaps you will be the one after all.

  


"He?" Saku echoed.

  


We have spent long enough in this chamber. The youko backed away from Achene, his form fading into the darkness. Go to your sister – she is calling you. He disappeared.

  


Saku started forward, but the extra weight reminded him. Gently he pulled the flower off him, unwrapping the vines that clung like arms, and set it on the floor. "This is the last phase," he told it. "You can still bail, if you want."

  


The plant responded by shrinking itself down to a seed once more and waiting for Saku to pick it up. Saku hid his relief, tucking the pod inside his hair. He liked the weird, rebellious, fanged plant, and he was secretly glad it would stay with him.

  


Achene turned as he approached and her eyes were bright. He stood there, staring down at her, wondering if she was really his sister or had ever been his sister, or if he had ever known her at all.

  


She poured the water out of her cupped palm and rose to her feet without wiping her hand. She took one step, then another, and finally pitched herself into his arms, her thin limbs curving round his neck, her wet hand dampening his skin. Startled for a moment, Saku returned her hug tightly. It made no difference what anyone said. They were two parts of a whole, though they might be separated, though they might one day go down their own paths.

  


Achene backed away a few feet. "Bara?" she asked him, golden eyes almost pleading.

  


_I don't understand, _Saku wanted to say. Yet her face, her usually blank and careless face, was too hopeful. If she wanted to tell him, then just _tell him_.

  


But she couldn't, or wouldn't, and Saku gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah. I saw him too. He . . . seems like he wants to help us."

  


One of her hands curled to her chest, and Achene reached out the other and touched Saku's chest. Saku pulled her hand down and tugged gently on it.

  


"We'd better try to find a way out of here," he said. "We have to start walking agin. Come on."

  


The twins moved into the darkness, leaving the light and the shallow pool behind.

  


***

  


They traveled through a swirling mass of color, the gateway between Makai and Ningenkai. Actually getting a portal ready had taken longer than expected, and Kit had grown increasingly snappish. By the time they were able to enter the portal, their spirits were low and tension crackled in the air.

  


"Good luck," Botan had told them somberly. "And be careful."

  


"You have my number," Kurama said. "Call us if anything happens."

  


She nodded, and the portal had closed behind them.

  


They hadn't spoken aloud since then, each confined to his own thoughts. There wasn't much to look at besides the almost nauseating rotation of the portal, so Kurama contented himself by observing his companions.

  


Kit seemed on the verge of losing himself, and Kurama thought he understood. Dealing with family issues was difficult for a youko, the redhead knew, for the race hardly took care of the younglings once they could walk. Kit was attached to his children, no matter how he might deny it, and worry was undeniably churning in his mind.

  


The twins wanted the Sachi Stone. For what? For something more than what they had, of that Kurama was certain. Could the blame be placed on Kit, then, because he was a negligent father? Kurama doubted Kit desired _that_ particular question answered.

  


To add even more anxiety, the Reikai was still proposing a total lock down of all inter-world borders. If that happened . . .

  


Kurama shifted his focus to Hiyaku, his young and blue-eyed "nephew." The youko was biting his lip, conflicting emotions clearly displayed across his smooth face. Kurama supposed Hiyaku must be bearing the most weight of this whole incident. He had been too young to fully understand, yet old enough to remember, the death of the first person to show him compassion. Without Daini, Hiyaku had turned to Kit for guidance, acceptance, and comfort, and had received most if not all. But Kit was too caught up in his own world to give Hiyaku anything beyond a soft word.

  


"Youko affairs," Koenma had called it. Well, Kurama could not disagree. Inari's apparent involvement solidified the fact that things had shifted away from being merely a domestic dispute. Why did the god care what happened to two half-breeds? Or did he care at all? They needed to solve this puzzle, or else remain on the outside and never know whether Inari supported or opposed them. A youko affair indeed.

  


Kurama swung around to meet a pair of ruby-red eyes. "What?" he asked innocently.

  


"You were doing that thing."

  


"What thing?"

  


"That glazed look." Hiei snorted, adjusting the grip on his sword. "When you are thinking too much."

  


Kurama let loose a miniature grin. "I was wondering why you're coming along. Kit and Hiyaku I can understand – they're family to the twins – and by default I'm also related. But if this is really just about youko, it shouldn't concern you."

  


The youkai regarded his mate for a steady moment, then cut his eyes away, not answering. Kurama let it go. The other side to the portal could be seen, a circlet of darkness among all the color. They stepped out of the gateway and the night was lit by a fading full moon overhead.

  


"We're too late," Hiyaku whimpered. "They've already found the pool by now."

  


Kit growled low in his throat. "We knew the right direction. We could have found them. Now they could be heading in any direction."

  


"Does the temple really move?" the youngest youko asked, hoping for a different answer than what he would get.

  


"Afraid so," Kurama admitted. "The Sachi Stone is more than a mere jewel or bauble. It's alive in a way that's hard to comprehend, and it'll only let certain people know where its temple is located."

  


"Piece of rock," Kit muttered. "It has caused us enough trouble in the past already."

  


The redhead looked up at the shining orb above. "The children couldn't have found the pool very long ago, and they won't cover much ground in the dark. We can gain some time if we split up and search for them now."

  


"Agreed," said Kit. "Staying clumped together will not benefit us."

  


Kurama nodded, turning to the youko who was standing with his ears laid flat and his tail tucked close to his ankles. "Hiyaku, you come with me."

  


"Kurama–"

  


Kurama shot Hiei a glance, silently asking him to go with Kit. Hiyaku hadn't been in the Makai for ten years, and Kurama knew Kit wouldn't offer any condolences. It was a bit dangerous to put two demons together that both rarely cared to strike up a conversation – especially when the shared dislike was clearly visible – but at least they were both experienced enough to take care of themselves . . .

  


Hiei gave him a dark look in return, and Kit didn't appear to have heard. Kurama inwardly winced. Hiei could also look out for Kit, if need be; the youko was too encased in his own world.

  


"Let's go," Kit said, a slice of gold flickering toward Hiei. So he _had_ heard, Kurama realized, or he was at least paying enough attention to get by. "We will take the northwest approach."

  


"And we'll go southwest," Kurama nodded. "Contact us if you find anything and we'll meet up again before midnight on the second day. If we don't find them by then . . ."

  


"Fine," Kit grunted. Without saying anything else, he disappeared through the trees. Hiei glared once at Kurama and flitted after the youko.

  


Kurama raised a hand and massaged his temple. Hopefully those two could learn to get along better or Kurama would never hear the end of it.

  


Hiyaku was fidgeting, shifting his feet. "We should get going."

  


Kurama regarded the younger one for a moment. A decade ago, it would've been strange to see such a creature dressed like a ningen, tie and all. But things like that were only growing more common. "You're right," he said. When he turned to start walking, Hiyaku didn't follow. He raised a slender brow. "What is it?"

  


"What happens," Hiyaku said quietly, "if we don't find 'em by midnight tomorrow?"

  


Kurama stopped, eyes tired. "They find the Sachi Stone."

  


"And then?"

  


"Then they make their One True Wish."

  


Hesitation. ". . . and then?"

  


Kurama shook his head, scarlet strands fraying over his shoulders. "I don't know."

  


***

  


It took a long time before Saku could open his eyes again or, at least, it felt like a long time to him. He knew Achene lay beside him because he could feel her hand still in his, her skin cold and her fingers unmoving.

  


Once they had stepped away from the pool, complete darkness seemed to swallow them whole. The next thing Saku remembered was waking up on the ground, the chilly Makai night rising goosebumps along his bare arms. He was vaguely glad he had brought a heavier jacket, although it was stuffed inside his pack and he had no idea where _that_ might be now.

  


He was tired, so tired his arms felt like metal and his eyelids like they were taped shut. He wondered for a panicked moment if he was dying, but no that was silly; they had just come back from a magical pool of water, and of course one couldn't always trust magic.

  


Achene's fingers twitched with life. Saku tried to open his eyes again and found the act much easier than before. He slowly cracked them open and, not meeting any resistence from harsh light, blinked a few times and saw his sister laying beside him.

  


It was dark outside, the surroundings lit by the moon circlet above. They must have been unconscious for hours for it hadn't even been completely dark when they found the pool.

  


Achene had woken up and was calmly watching him. He grinned at her, squeezing her hand slightly. "We're gonna be okay, right?"

  


She didn't answer, staring calmly into his eyes, and that was answer enough.

  


"Remember what Kurama said?" he asked. "Two more days of walking and then we'll be there."

  


Achene blinked slowly and exhaled a yawn, curling on her side closer to her brother. Saku tried to suppress his own yawn, sudden exhaustion washing over him.

  


"We might be safe here," he murmured, "for the night. We might . . . get some more sleep . . . I feel safe."

  


Her eyes were already drifting close, her breath warm against his neck. Saku vaguely thought that they shouldn't lay out in the open like this, that any youkai could come along and snatch them up in their sleep.

  


But he _did_ feel safe, whether because of the pool that was or had been nearby, or because the fanged flower nestled in his hair was vowing its protection. Saku kissed his sister's hair and slipped with her into sleep.

  


***

  


Kit could almost make himself believe that he was alone. The night was light enough for the youko's fox eyes to find his way, and dark enough for Kit to ignore the youkai traveling beside him. As long as he focused straight ahead, Hiei's black-encased shape melded into the shadows.

  


The relationship – if strained tolerance could be called that – between Kit and Hiei had been tense since the first night Hiei had tracked down the newly-released spirit. Kit did not enjoy being hunted, especially not by the lover of his former self; he felt no attraction toward Hiei, little runt that he was, and he despised the loyalty between those two. With Daini gone, that resentment was even clearer.

  


Bitterness had wrapped its cold fingers around Kit's core. No, it went deeper than that, deeper than a mere word or emotion. The one thing that connected Kit to his life had been taken from him. Words couldn't describe that kind of loss.

  


_//"You aren't alone."//_

  


His adopted son was wrong. Seeing Hiei only reminded Kit of how alone he really was, alone to his broken life, alone to his misery, alone to everything. Even his children did not need him – they had each other and this . . . quest. Kit regarded the thought with conflict. He had an idea about their wish, but he dared not think about it too much. He wanted to protect his offspring, yes, but it was more complicated than just stopping them. And with that damnable god involved, the situation became even more complicated, full of second-guessing and treading on unknown ground.

  


Kit would rather things stayed the same, with the kids attending school, Hiyaku pretending to be a ningen, and Kit wasting away the years by staying in the past.

  


Kit snorted. According to the redhead, he stayed the past, and Kit did not particularly care to argue. The present was mundane; the future held no promises; the past was the only portion of life that held any joy.

  


Hiei was snapping at him, Kit could hear. Something about resting until dawn. Kit ignored the suggestion, speeding across the browned grass. They could lose time if they rested now.

  


Finally, the youkai growled and slowed to a halt, forcing Kit to stop as well. "Pushing yourself like this won't solve anything."

  


"And sleeping will?" Kit retorted, holding his head high, golden eyes piercing. "My children have a day's advantage that we can overtake."

  


"We won't find them tonight no matter how hard we run." Hiei swept a harsh hand at the youko. "Look at yourself – you can barely stand there. Going at this pace, you won't be of any help once we _do_ find the brats."

  


Kit seethed. When he crossed his arms, he could feel his muscles quivering. "Tolerating you," he snarled quietly, "I do only because I have no choice. But as soon as daylight cracks over the horizon, I will move onward and I will not slow my pace." He pulled back his lips over white fangs. "If you can keep up."

  


Hiei returned the feral expression. "Slowing down would be for your benefit, not mine."

  


"Cursed demon," Kit muttered under his breath. Replying to that comment was beneath him, Kit decided. Of course the little runt was faster, though the youko was sure his own positive attributes far exceeded that of the other.

  


Kit leapt into a tree and found a comfortable niche, refusing to look at Hiei who perched a few trees away. Two more days of this; Kit was not sure he could take waking up in the morning.

  


His eyelids drooped. He was more tired than he first realized. Just a few hours, he told himself, just a few hours and then they could continue searching . . . Kit's eyes closed, chin resting forward, limbs curled near his body. Within a few breaths, he was asleep. He dreamed nightmares, visions of loss and regret and of two small children calling his name.

  


***

  


He stepped out of the portal and the foliage seemed to tense and rush toward him, yearning or a mere touch or word. Normally such adoration would have amused the youko god, perhaps tugged a grin from his perfect lips, but a warning growl rose in his throat. He was in no mood, and the foliage shrank away in sudden fear.

  


Standing almost motionless, ten tails tucked close, he let his black eyes Search, seeking the right direction in which to travel. He was a god, yes. He could think _Gandara_ and appear before the city gates, not – and here Inari snorted – that he would ever care to.

  


This was different. The Sachi temple had no permanent location; therefore, he was forced to do this the mortal way by using his senses. He concentrated, eyes narrowing as he peered around him with glints of black.

  


His sight blurred. Snarling, he widened his stance, nails cutting into his palms, and centralized all his might into seeing toward the west. Like a microscope being focused, he caught a glimpse of a boy and a girl enveloped in sleep, and then he snapped back to the place where he stood.

  


Slender, bone-white fingers brushed at his temple, sweeping away the moisture that had beaded along his brow. Everything was taking more effort than usual, even something as simple as adjusting one's sight.

  


He felt a shiver along his spine, and lifted one of his tails for inspection. The tips of the strands were fading like a television picture getting bad reception, the silver melting into the damp night air. When he touched the strands, their softness was barely sensed across the pads of his fingers.

  


"It has begun."

  


He tilted his eyes to the sky, letting the moonlight fall upon his face. The moon was vanishing and the edge was already hidden behind shadow.

  


"It has begun," he said again, with a somewhat sour tone. "Oh, _hell_."


	5. chapter 5

Chapter 5

  


"No . . . no!" Hiyaku whimpered. "No, Daini . . . The flowers are- are dying. Can't you see?"

  


Kurama knelt beside the youth, shaking him gently. "Wake up," he whispered.

  


Hiyaku scrunched his face. "The flowers are–" He cut himself off as he awoke and stared up at Kurama. "W-what?"

  


"You were dreaming," Kurama said, smiling slightly.

  


"Oh . . ." He straightened from his slouched position, a fine blush tinting his cheeks. "Sorry. I don't often."

  


"It's all right." Kurama stood and walked over to a small fire. "I caught us a large breakfast, so we won't have to stop to eat something later on. Hope you like gnarbish and mushrooms."

  


"I like mushrooms. Never had gnarbish." Hiyaku sniffed the skinned animal which was roasting over the fire. "Smells good, though." He gave a hesitant grin. "I think the Ningenkai's spoiled me; I wasn't so picky back then."

  


Kurama rotated the animal, thinking about his first years as a human, the adjustments and the changes. "Life is easier there."

  


"Oh, no," Hiyaku disagreed, shaking his head. "I didn't mean that. Home is full of its own perils and dangers, and you have to fight to survive there too, just in different ways."

  


_Home?_ Since when did Hiyaku start referring to the Ningenkai as "home" instead of just a place to live? It had taken Kurama much longer than ten years to make that decision, and then years longer to truly become comfortable. Youko did not easily adapt to new and strange environments, especially one as foreign as the human world.

  


But Hiyaku was different. He had taken to the Ningenkai even quicker than Yuusuke had to his role as one of the three Makai kings. Hiyaku almost considered himself a ningen; he certainly spoke of things like he was one. Kurama wasn't sure if he should be more disturbed by that or not.

  


"The Makai," Kurama said softly, "is still not to be trusted. You have to stay alert at all times."

  


"I know," Hiyaku said. "I remember." He fell silent, golden eyes reflecting the flames of the small fire.

  


Kurama inwardly chided himself. Really, he would not get the cub to open up by picking at old scars. Hiyaku was a person who talked a lot without saying much of anything, and Kurama's nosey nature prodded him to find out what was happening in that small yet intelligent mind.

  


He cracked a smile. "The gnarbish is done cooking. Eat up and as much as you want."

  


Hiyaku brightened, slipping into his usual cheerful attitude. "Thanks a lot!"

  


"Don't mention it." Kurama helped him to a piece of meat, and the rest of their meal was spent in silence.

  


***

  


Sakukyo's stomach loudly voiced its complaint, and he rubbed his hands over it in small circles. "Sorry," he said. "We're out of nutrition bars."

  


Achene was washing her face with the water from a nearby stream. "Bara?" she asked, glancing at her brother.

  


"I don't know," he replied. "There might be some berries or fruit nearby, but they might also be poisonous."

  


She straightened, gazing at him.

  


He sighed and shrugged his bony shoulders. "It's worth a try. It might be able to tell us something." Finding the flower within his hair, Saku held it on his palm and watched the seed blossom into the large fanged flower he had seen last night. "Can you help?"

  


The plant bowed its "head," violet petals touching Saku's wrist.

  


"Ningen or youko?" the boy echoed. "Um, both, I guess. I wouldn't want to eat anything harmful to either one." A burst of images filled his mind, flashes of different berries and such that were edible, several of which grew in the area. Saku gave the flower his thanks and turned to Achene. "There's some fruit near here that we can have for breakfast. It's oval-shaped with red and yellow spots."

  


The flower cringed when Saku placed it on his shoulder. "You can stay here, if you wanna," he told it, trying to sound friendly. This thing was a jittery creature, and he didn't want to scare it off. "I don't mind."

  


It conceded, settling down around his neck like a warm scarf.

  


"All right," Saku said, grinning. "Let's go find some food."

  


***

  


Kit awoke with a jerk when Hiei touched his arm. Sunlight was breaking through the hazy sky, forming a thin line of yellow, orange, and red. The youko cursed silently because he had overslept, and then cut a glare at the hand still touching him.

  


"Wha–" he began.

  


"Quiet," Hiei clipped. The Jagan was open and bright as the youkai's Sight was focused elsewhere.

  


Kit narrowed his eyes, but stayed silent. Now that he concentrated, he could sense the demons moving beneath their perch in the trees.

  


"Marauders," Hiei said. "I have been watching them for the past hour. They are just passing through, as far as I can tell, but they are heading in the same direction we are."

  


Kit growled low in his throat. "We cannot afford to be caught up in a fight right now. We will have to go around."

  


"It will slow us down."

  


"As opposed to wasting time here?"

  


Hiei shrugged. "Either way."

  


The youko studied the bee-line of youkai moving below. If they had been passing for an hour, then there must be hundreds of them. "Around, then?"

  


"Agreed." Securing the cloth that bound his Jagan, Hiei shifted along the branch. "They are moving slow. We can bypass them ahead."

  


No other words were needed between them.

  


***

  


Botan hesitated, chewing on the inside of her lip. "Why me?" she worried aloud. "Why did he have to send _me_?"

  


She stood on the doorstep to Shiori's place, and had been there for several minutes already, debating whether or not she should knock or go back to face Koenma's wrath. Either way wouldn't turn out nice for her. The ferrygirl raised a trembling hand and rapped it upon the door. Then she waited. She could hear movement from inside and knew she couldn't leave now.

  


The door opened and Shiori peered through the screen. Her gentle dark eyes swept over the girl, taking in her pink kimono and pony-tailed blue hair. "Yes? May I help you?"

  


Botan cleared her throat and pushed a bright smile to the surface. "My name is Botan. We haven't met before, but I'm a friend of Ku- Shuiichi's."

  


Shiori widened the door, her caution fading. "He's spoken of you before. From the Reikai, right?"

  


"Right," she nodded. "Koenma-sama sent me here to speak to you."

  


"Please, come in." Shiori stood aside and let the girl enter, then hurried into the kitchen to prepare a pot of tea. "Is everything all right?"

  


"Eh . . . not exactly . . ." Botan replied, studying the framed pictures adorning the walls. "I mean," she added hastily. "No one is hurt or anything like that, or, at least, we don't think so. We thought you should know, in case anything _did_ happen. Not that anything would! It's just–"

  


"Botan-san," Shiori interrupted. "Maybe you should start at the beginning."

  


Botan's smile slipped a little. "H-hai."

  


Shiori went and poured two cups of steaming tea, and they sat on the couch together, letting the porcelain warm their hands.

  


"What- what do you know about Shuiichi? Before he was Shuiichi, I mean. About how he became your son?"

  


"He hasn't told me much, I'm sure," Shiori said. "He had been injured when he was a youko and some sort of jewel gave him a new life by letting him be reborn here."

  


Botan stared at her reflection among the tea. "It's called the Sachi Stone. It's based in the Makai, which is why Koenma hasn't been able to get rid of it, and its powers are surrounded by the owner's One True Wish."

  


"Wish?"

  


"The Stone knows the deepest desires of a person and, if it wants to, it can grant that desire. This makes it very unpredictable since it's next move can never be tracked, and very dangerous."

  


"Was Shuiichi harmed by the Stone?" So many years had passed since Kurama was born. Why would this matter now?

  


Botan shook her head and snuck a guilty look at Shiori's wrinkled face. "I don't know any other way to say this . . . The twins, Achene and Sakukyo, discovered that the Stone could grant the One True Wish and they decided to find it for themselves."

  


"But why?" Shiori held a hand to her mouth.

  


"We're not sure," Botan admitted. "As of this morning, they're still okay, but . . . We thought you should know the risks . . . in case something might happen."

  


"W-what could happen? Where are they?"

  


"The demon world," Botan said quietly. "Since yesterday morning. We're keeping track of them, and so they seem fine."

  


Shiori's fingers quivered and, fearing she'd spill her tea, she set the cup on the nearby table. There was silence for a long time with neither one of them saying anything, neither one of them moving. Finally, Shiori said, "Did you know that my grandchildren are strong, Botan-san?"

  


The ferrygirl blinked. "Well, I- I'm sure they are . . ."

  


Shiori smiled. "I see much of their parents in them. You know," she said, her voice growing soft. "Kit came to see my once a few years ago and asked me: 'Kaasan, how did you survive after your husband passed away?' And I told him that at first I didn't think I could, until I figured out that all I had to do was _live_. That's what those two children are doing; they're just living the only way they know how. It may be wrong and dangerous, but that's something to work out in time." She glanced at Botan's cup. "Oh, my. You've run out of tea. Let me get you some more." Before the girl could protest, Shiori took her cup and headed toward the kitchen.

  


Botan stared at the floor, considering, then lifted her eyes to one of the pictures handing above the couch. The photo was a family portrait of a youko dressed in a rosy-cream kimono, carrying a younger youko cub who was making a face at the camera. Beside them stood a short, black-haired girl with shining eyes, her belly swollen with pregnancy.

  


Lips curving upward, Botan let loose a bubbly laugh as Shiori returned to the living room. "I was supposed to comfort _you_, not the other way around."

  


"Having someone to talk to is comfort enough," Shiori said. "Now tell me, dear, what my sons are doing about all this."

  


Botan nodded, and told her.

  


***

  


Sakukyo wasn't much one for open displays of happiness. He had grown up with a father who never smiled, a brother whose smiles only hid sadness, and a sister who never cracked an expression at all. Saku had learned to be quiet when needed; he wasn't a reserved boy by nature although he wasn't a loud one either. His laughs were few and far between, and softly uttered even then.

  


But right now he was happy. He walked with a skip in his step, head held high, a grin tugging at his lips. Achene walked not behind or in front of him; she walked at his side, and that alone would've been enough to overjoy him.

  


They had passed their first day in the treacherous, nightmare-fulfilling Makai without any major catastrophes, conquered the first obstacle in obtaining the Stone, and even made a friend or two. Of course, Saku was still wary of the youko named Bara, and would remain so until they found out more about him. Yet he was also relieved, glad they weren't completely alone.

  


Westward was their destination, easy enough while the sun rose in the east. Once noon came, they had to be more careful or else they'd lose their path, and they stopped to eat a small lunch of the spotted fruit until the sun was falling instead. Then they followed the fading orb, keeping their large and hopeful eyes steadily trained upon its rays of gold and red and purple.

  


The fanged flower kept Saku occupied as they journeyed, relating to the boy all it knew about the Makai and the land's wild ways. Being a plant, it really didn't have much knowledge, if any, about the politics or the youkai or other regions away from its own. But it knew _plants_, and plants were Saku's speciality. In this way they found a common topic, and Saku learned more than he ever could back at the greenhouse, the Onshitsu. Saku listened to the flower with rapt attention and, in turn, related its stories to the silent girl beside him who gave no indication that she wanted him to stop.

  


This was how they passed the hours, two children traveling among such a foreign land. Any youkai that saw them instantly forgot why they might want to attack such easy prey, and Saku secretly thought it was because of Bara, the youko undoubtedly following their trail.

  


***

  


They gathered wood and eventually built a fire, enough to keep them warm throughout the night. Their coats they used as blankets. It was a makeshift camp, but it would do.

  


Kurama settled onto a soft bed of moss, pulling his coat up his chest and tucking his arms behind his head. He tilted his emerald gaze to the black sky, to the splatters of twinkling lights. "The stars are different here," he commented after a moment. "Aren't they?"

  


"I guess." Hiyaku tossed away the bones of his meal and stretched out next to the older youko. "I never had much time to look at them."

  


"I used to often enough, back in my thieving days. When I was away from my territory, I would sleep wherever I could – in caves, in trees, on rocks. My favorite places were those where I could watch the stars. They're opposite than those in the Ningenkai, you know."

  


Hiyaku traced the pinpricks above with his eyes. "No, I didn't."

  


"Mirror images," Kurama mused. "Like taking a picture and flipping it over."

  


Raising his hands, Hiyaku placed his fingers over the stars, forming lines to see if he could picture them switched around and figure out which ones they represented. His hands seemed so small against all that darkness. Then he gave up and lowered his arms to his sides. "What's it like? Coming back like this?"

  


"The same it is for you, I suppose," Kurama answered. "Sadness, comfort, regret . . ."

  


Quietly, "Fear."

  


"That too. It's like visiting the past. It can be nice, but mostly you keep reminding yourself that you will eventually go back."

  


"Exactly," Hiyaku whispered. Not looking at his uncle, he puffed a minute sigh. "Can I ask you a question, a serious one?"

  


"Of course."

  


"I've been . . . struggling for a long time now . . ." He swallowed, brow furrowing, and started again. "When Daini died, I really didn't know who I was anymore, I mean, besides being a youko. At that age, it didn't really matter either. As the years went by, I began to think that I'd figured it out, but . . . coming back here . . ." He pushed away the silver bangs tumbling into his face. "I'm Hiyaku, but I don't know what that means anymore. Does that make sense?"

  


Kurama nodded in answer.

  


"What I really want to ask is this: what makes a- a ningen a ningen, or a youko a youko? I . . . I'm so confused."

  


The redhead turned on his side, facing the youth. "Shouldn't your father be the one to–"

  


Hiyaku cut his off with a snort. "Kit doesn't have it figured out any more than I do."

  


"You might be surprised."

  


"He wouldn't tell me even if he did."

  


_Okay, you win_. "Alright then." Kurama sat up, folding his long legs in front of him and clasping his ankles with a hand. One slender finger tapped his own forehead. "This is your answer."

  


Hiyaku blinked confused golden eyes. "Huh?"

  


"Look at me," Kurama said, lowering his hand and leaning forward. "What do you see?" When Hiyaku only stared with his mouth open, Kurama shook his head. "Come on, little one. What do I look like?"

  


Hiyaku bristled at the name; he was taller than Hiei! "You look like a ningen," he retorted.

  


"True. Now look closer."

  


Sighing, he peered at the redhead, gaze slightly going unfocused. "Your aura shows that you're part youko, too." He closed his eyes and, when he opened them again, they shone angrily. "I've heard all this before. I shouldn't try to choose one or the other because there are some people that are both and there's not a difference."

  


"That's not the answer at all."

  


"Then what is it?" he asked impatiently.

  


Kurama watched him calmly, then silently laid back down and returned to looking up at the clear sky. Hiyaku whined low in his throat. Sensing the conversation was over, he hunched his shoulders, fists clenched across his thighs.

  


A slender finger tapped above his eyes, startling Hiyaku. "No one," Kurama said, "can tell you what your identity is. Despite what you might look like on the outside, you decide for yourself what you think and feel. And, should you choose to live a human life or a youko life, your answer will come."

  


Hiyaku accepted that, grinning as he stretched his limbs. The dying fire crackled in the silence, throwing shadows across their faces and warming their skin. The night air felt more damp than before, and rain seemed inevitable for tomorrow though the sky was still clear.

  


"Ne, Kurama?"

  


"Aa."

  


Hiyaku twisted his head, peering at the ningen-youko. "How did you know Hiei was the one?"

  


Kurama laughed softly. "That," he said, "is something that will have to wait until Kit is ready to explain."

  


"But I'm already fifteen!"

  


"By human standards," Kurama corrected, eyes twinkling. "Nephew, you still have centuries to go."

  


"_Centuries_!" the youth cried. "I'll be so old by then!"

  


Old? _Hardly_, Kurama mentally snorted. Kids these days were just so eager to grow up.

  


***

  


The air smelt of coming rain. Kit flared his nostrils, taking in the damp air and trying to determine how long they had until the storm broke. They awoke to a foggy morning and dark clouds approaching overhead. The next night would be a wet one.

  


After a full day of searching, there was still no sign of Achene and Sakukyo, no indication that the twins had ever passed this way. Kit's meager patience was at its end. He cut a glare at Hiei, who was currently trying to use his Jagan to search. That third eye had already proved to be useless; the kids had no detectable ki and rarely left any kind of trace.

  


"Oi," he grumbled. "Put that away. It will not do any good."

  


Hiei ignored him and continued to stare from his perch among the trees. A few moments later, he bound the Jagan and smoothly leapt to Kit's side on the ground.

  


"See? Useless."

  


"I wasn't looking for them," Hiei said. "We are veering too close to Kurama and the brat. If we adjust our path more south, then we can cover a wider area."

  


"Fine." Kit squared his shoulders and started forward again. He could feel scarlet eyes boring into his back, and turned to meet them. "What is it now?"

  


Hiei's face was blank, hands folded behind him. "Only you."

  


"Meaning?" _Not that I care._

  


"You." Hiei shrugged, not clarifying.

  


Brows furrowing, Kit growled and swung back around. For a while, all they heard were their own footsteps. Then, "I haven't a clue why Kurama paired us together. It certainly was not my choice."

  


"He did it because of the brat," Hiei stated.

  


"Hiyaku? Why?"

  


"I am sure if you consider it long enough, you can figure it out on your own. The youko doesn't remember any useful Makai skills, besides thievery, and Kurama would sooner go with _you_ than let the kitling alone with some weepy youko."

  


Kit fisted his hands, anger causing his tail to bristle. "Hiyaku is my son."

  


"Oh really?" Hiei snorted. "He could be a stranger, with as much attention as you give him." Kit bared his teeth, but Hiei, disregarding the threat, pressed onward. "I see the same with these two we are searching for."

  


Kit rounded on him, swinging out an arm to catch Hiei across the chest and slam him against the rough trunk of a tree. He flexed his youko claws, raising them to the level of Hiei's neck. The youkai did nothing, said nothing, like Kit expected. During all their past arguments, Hiei had never lifted a finger to defend himself when Kit turned violent.

  


Unalarmed scarlet eyes stared into heated golden.

  


"I have tolerated you for far too long," Kit hissed. "You tried to interfere with the relationship between Daini and I, and I have never forgotten it. You may have aided us at times, but that does not excuse your meddling into my affairs."

  


Hiei did not reply.

  


"These arguments are old, Jaganshi," the youko continued, "and I will _not_ continue them. I am not my brother. I have no patience for your tongue." He shook the smaller demon. "Say something!"

  


"Changing the subject, are you?"

  


Kit snarled. "You know nothing of me or my family!"

  


"I know what I see. I know that you are still so wrapped within your mate's death that you think the Wish will be about her, instead of–"

  


A fist connected roughly with his jaw, tossing Hiei's head to the side. "You cannot comprehend my situation!"

  


Hiei spat out some blood and surveyed him again. "What situation? It is the same as it was ten years ago."

  


"Ten years ago I still had my mate, until what I did to her took her away from me."

  


"Hardly." Hiei rested his head against the gray bark, relaxing as Kit's arm held him up. "You had nothing to do with her death and, if you think you did, then you are more a fool than I first thought." He held back a wince as Kit pushed him and the tree dug into his shoulders.

  


"If I did not kill her, who did? The children? The Fates?" Kit pressed his face close to Hiei's, eyes burning, so close that his minty scent washed over the youkai. "Who is responsible? If not me, then _who_?"

  


"No one," Hiei replied. "Death isn't always so black and white. No one killed her, youko. It just happened."

  


Happened. The word echoed throughout Kit's mind, bouncing among all his doubts and fears. Kit cut his eyes away, loosening his hold on the other; if Hiei wanted to break away, then he would have done so already. He felt a small yet strong hand grip his wrist, merely holding. "The reason," Hiei said, "that these arguments are so old is because you have yet to listen to them."

  


"Do not philosophize me." Kit fisted a hand in the white scarf. "You and Kurama have said the same thing over and over. The only difference is that Kurama gave up long ago."

  


"Which is what you wanted."

  


Kit started, golden eyes flickering, once, with an emotion other than anger. "Of course not."

  


"Isn't it?" Hiei asked, deadpan. "Why else would you continue this charade?"

  


The youko bared sharp teeth. "I will continue it until you stop pestering me!"

  


"No." He shook his head. "You will continue it until your offspring are dragged down along with you."

  


"Demon!" Kit raised his hand again to strike the youkai.

  


A bright light shone behind him, and Kit glanced over his shoulder as a tall figure emerged. Hiei muttered a curse, seeing the long white hair, ten fanning tails, and two coal-black eyes that were blinking at his surroundings.

  


"There you are," said the god, brushing a wisp of light off his pale arm. He walked toward the pair, then stopped, focusing. "I ruined a good moment, it seems. Ah, well. You can continue your quarrel after I am done." He straightened his tunic and folded his arms at his back. "I had hoped to find both you and the other one of you together, but you alone will have to do."

  


"What do you want?" Kit demanded, releasing Hiei.

  


The youkai slumped against the tree, silently watching. The last thing Hiei desired was to be caught between two youko.

  


"I came to answer your question," was Inari's reply. "Or have you forgotten?" Black eyes swept over the other youko, and Inari sighed briefly, getting no response. "So be it." He turned away, prepared to leave and find the redheaded youko instead.

  


"Wait." Kit stepped closer, cautiously. He disliked this tall being and trusted him even less. However . . . "Does it . . . involve my children?"

  


"In ways," Inari said without turning around.

  


_//"Inari-san!"_

  


_"Why, you ask?"_

  


_"Why did you come to the Sutajiamu to talk with my mate? Why did you give Hiyaku discolored eyes? Why did you travel so far merely to make Choices for half-breeds? Nothing you have done has ever made sense to me."_

  


_"Such is the god of tricksters and thieves."//_

  


"Why?" Kit asked.

  


"Precisely." The god faced him, his many tails forming a circlet of white around him. Three of the ten tails seemed thin or faded, and Kit could see the trees through them. "For ten thousand years I have walked these lands and watched my people as they developed from kitsune to youko. We were one of the Great Races, and now there are too few of us, so few that the forest does not wish to acknowledge our presence." Inari bowed his head. "Only a handful of kits were born over the past few years. Our kind . . . are dying."

  


"How does this involve me or my family?"

  


A path of darkness flashed across Inari's fair face and was gone. "Self-righteous child! Do you not see the holes forming within me?"

  


"Why would a god need our help?" wondered Hiei, speaking for the first time. He stepped away from the tree, tucking his hands into his cloak.

  


Kit narrowed his eyes. "He has some reason."

  


"You became involved the moment your offspring stepped upon these lands. It has begun." Inari straightened to his full height, staring down at them. "Whether or not you stay involved, it shall continue. It shall be finished."

  


"I think you are desperate," Hiei said.

  


"I am fading, Jaganshi," Inari snapped. "Do you really believe I care about your opinion?"

  


Hiei snorted and looked away.

  


Inari waved a hand, and the same bright light from before appeared, making him seem like he was glowing. "We will meet again in the temple of the Stone. There you can decide what the lives of your children are worth." He moved into the portal, pausing one last time, dark eyes stark among all the white. "You once asked 'why' of me, and as an answer I ask you: What will happen if the god of tricksters and thieves dies?"

  


And he was gone, vanished to another part of Makai.

  


Weariness seeped into Kit and he closed his eyes briefly, aware that Hiei stood nearby, waiting. He clenched his fists, shoulders forming a tense line of muscle. Finally, he gritted, "You are either with me or against me. There is no middle. Choose not."

  


"I will have nothing to do with the god," Hiei said.

  


Kit nodded, accepting. "Things have changed. We need to meet up with Kurama and Hiyaku as soon as possible."

  


They fell into step beside each other, now moving south.

  


***

  


Kurama dipped his palm into the stream and drank a few sips as Hiyaku splashed the cool water on his face. "We have about two more hours before midnight."

  


Hiyaku looked at his reflection, blue eyes sad. "We won't find them in time. There's no way."

  


"Giving up hope does us no good," Kurama said, wiping his brow. "They can't be far away." He frowned at the setting sun and the thick clouds that covered it. "The rain is going to cost us time. Let's go, Hiyaku." He picked up his pack and adjusted it over his shoulder.

  


"Kit!" cried Hiyaku, scrambling to his feet.

  


Kurama followed the young one's gaze to the two who came out of the woods.

  


"What're you doing back so soon?" Hiyaku asked, running toward the older youko. "Did something happen? Did you find them?"

  


Kurama met Hiei's eyes. "What happened?"

  


Kit's jaw was set. "Before we go any further, we need to talk."


	6. chapter 6

Chapter 6

  


//"Where am I?"

  


Sakukyo looked around the small room, not seeing much beyond the brown of the wooden walls and floor. A book was laying on a round table in the far corner, its dark blue cover closed. Nothing else adorned the room.

  


A memory, came a reply. Bara stood tall beside him, dark eyes focused on the book. Do you not wish to read it?

  


"I'm not sure," Saku said. "W-whose memory is it?"

  


The youko strode forward, reached out a hand, and held it over the thick cover, not quite touching. Your father's. He lifted his gaze to the boy. Sakukyo?

  


Saku backed away, pressing his back against the far wall. "I- I can't."

  


Eyes sorrowful, Bara offered a gentle smile. Awake, then.//

  
  


It was raining. Cold stone chilled his shoulders, dirt beneath him and more rock above. He remembered that they had found the makeshift cave once the rain started to pour a few hours ago, and he had been sitting inside it ever since.

  


Achene was still sleeping, her head resting in his lap. He stroked the red strands of her hair, brushing them from her peaceful face, and wondered what they should do now. The rain prevented them from moving toward the west; they couldn't see the moon enough to tell which direction they were going.

  


He sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back. What if they weren't far enough? What if the temple came and they weren't in the right place?

  


He felt a warm touch on his hand and looked down at the fanged flower. "You should be resting," he told it. "We don't know what's gonna happen next."

  


It ruffled its petals, lightly scraping his skin. No, he didn't mind if it stayed that way. The company would be nice. Seeming to relax, the plant unfurled its thin vines and settled next to Achene's head. It sent a question to Saku.

  


"Yeah, she's always been really quiet like that, even when we were little." Saku smiled, a bit melancholy. "No one could say why she's never talked, or even if she can. Hiyaku – that's my older brother – once said that Father took us to see Mother's grave for the first time during our first birthday. Achene started screaming "Bara! Bara!" like she was seeing something the rest of us couldn't. After that, she wouldn't say anything else, and Father began taking off wherever during our birthdays."

  


Saku giggled a little in the darkness but the sound held no joy. "We haven't even celebrated yet. H-Happy Birthday to you . . . Happy Birthday, dear Sakukyo . . ." He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. "I wonder if they're trying to find us right now. I wonder if Father even knows we're gone . . ."

  


Achene stirred, curling closer to her brother. Saku wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, choking back a sob when she returned the gesture. It was silly of him to cry like this, but at that moment he didn't care.

  


"Bara," he heard Achene murmur, and the fanged flower tensed, shuffling behind him. She pushed at Saku's shoulders, taking his face with her fingers and turning him to the entrance of the cave.

  


The tan youko sat there, watching them with kitsune eyes as dark as the stormy night. He seemed so small and unimportant, his little body revealed by the flickers of light from the struggling fire the twins had built. His ears were swivelled forward and he waited, listening.

  


Saku quickly wiped his damp cheeks with his sleeve, feeling slightly embarrassed. He barely knew this youko – okay, so he hadn't even talked to Bara except in dreams or at the pool, which had felt like a dream anyway. But Bara – for Saku was now sure that was the youko's name – must be immensely old. Saku had always been told that youko got an extra tail as they accomplished something great, gained more power, or just plain _lived_ long enough. Saku guessed Bara had probably done all three.

  


Removing Achene's hands, Saku got to his feet, dusting his knees and running a hand through his unruly hair. He swallowed nervously. He hadn't ever tried to communicate with Bara face-to-face.

  


"D-do you know what time it is?" He mentally kicked himself. Of all the questions to ask . . . but they needed to know. The temple was supposed to show itself at midnight and for only sixty seconds. If they weren't even close to the right location . . .

  


Almost time, the kitsune answered. Come out and see.

  


"O-okay. Saku turned to Achene, and she had already risen, moving toward the entrance. Again, he thought there was some strange connection between the two of them which left him outside a silent conversation. He remembered what Bara had told him before, that Achene's path lay in a different direction than his own. His heart thudded within his chest as he watched his sister and the youko side by side.

  


He walked over to join them, intending to say something, anything, but neither Bara nor Achene were paying attention to him. They were staring up at the dark clouds, and Saku soon discovered exactly why.

  


A building was emerging from the sky, lowering between the clouds, bathed in an ethereal glow. The temple of the Sachi Stone was smaller than Saku had expected, though the way it floated made up the difference in grandeur.

  


_I'm ready_, Saku realized. _I'm ready to make our Wish. I'm ready to end our little crusade. Father, what will you say after this?_

  


The temple landed softly, and a door opened along one wall, sliding inward and welcoming. Achene crouched on her toes, glancing once at Saku. Her eyes seemed more shiny than usual as their gazes met . . . like she knew something he didn't . . .

  


"Achene–" he began, but he wasn't able to finish. She was gone, dashing after the temple, her feet barely making an imprint in the damp earth.

  


One minute. That was all the time they had.

  


Saku grabbed the fanged flower and started after his sister. A long-fingered slender hand grasped his wrist, halting him immediately. He jerked around and saw Bara in his youko form, kneeling beside him.

  


A painless shock passed through Saku's arm, and images filled his mind. He saw a tan youko wandering throughout Makai, always alone, always separated from everything around him. He saw his sister releasing the youko from the trap set by a hunter; he heard them as they shared their first conversation and the bond between them shone as brightly as a white thread tying them together.

  


Forgive me, Bara murmured, regret twinging his tenor voice.

  


His other hand reached over and clipped the boy on the back of the neck.

  


Saku's world tilted sideways. He heard the plant as it mentally expressed its alarm. Bara caught him when he fell, and Saku was enveloped by warmth and darkness.

  


***

  


The light in the sky wasn't difficult to spot, and it instantly attracted the attention of the three youko and the youkai standing next to them. Slight panic raced across the pale features of Kit and Kurama, who had seen that kind of light before.

  


"The temple," Kit whispered. "We are too late."

  


Kurama shook his head. "It's not far away. Come on!"

  


They took off through the trees, following the direction when the light vanished into the thick canopy. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and it dampened their hair and clothes, making their feet slide in the leaves as they ran.

  


"Kurama." Hiei moved to the redhead's side, dropping his voice low. "What Wish will they make? Do you know?"

  


Kurama hesitated, then answered, "Before, I had a few ideas. Now I'm not so sure."

  


Kit heard them both, but said nothing. As far as they knew, Inari had not initiated any contact with the children, and, if not, they had no idea that higher powers were trying to tug at their strings. Inari obviously desired the Stone for his own reasons, but the Stone wanted the children. Kit would try to stop anything harmful from happening to his offspring, even if it meant going against his own god.

  


For ten years Kit had refused to celebrate their births on the anniversary of Daini's death. It was better to leave for a week than to watch the faces of his children as he tried to explain to them. They were too young to carry such burdens, and he could carry it all for them – or so he had thought.

  


But they had surprised him. Sakukyo and Achene had taken their circumstances into their own tiny hands and decided to change them. With the Sachi Stone's help, whatever lay inside the hearts of those two children would become reality, two children who had never experienced a mother. Kit had sought to protect them; instead, he had hurt them more than he could comprehend.

  


If they'd had no contact with Inari, then their hidden desires should not have been altered. Kit was not sure which he should hope for: that their Wish would save all youko, or that their Wish would save their family . . .

  


_Did you?_ he thought. _Did you show yourself to them? Did they agree to help you?_

  


"There it is," Kurama said, breaking through Kit's thoughts.

  


They emerged from the trees and halted at the sight of the temple and the tall figure standing before it. Hiyaku yelped and ducked behind Kit, not daring to face the god. It had not been long since he had refused to join Inari's Inner Circle of servants.

  


Inari glanced over his shoulder at them, his back a tense line. "Fools," he muttered, not necessarily referring only to them. "All fools."

  


"Where are the twins?" Kurama asked, stepping forward. He could see Kit's clenched jaw and knew things were teetering on the edge of falling apart.

  


Inari snorted. "Most possibly inside the temple."

  


"Then I am going after them," Kit growled.

  


But Inari held out an arm and blocked their path. "The sixty seconds have already passed, and the Stone has been found. Interfering now would do nothing."

  


"Nothing? _Nothing?_ My children are messing with what they do not fully understand, and I am supposed to do nothing? I have done _nothing_ long enough!"

  


The god wasn't listening. Something had distracted him, caught his attention, and his black eyes were focused on a small cave to the left. "He is here."

  


Suddenly the other youko felt it as well, a warm wash of familiarity. Hiei narrowed his eyes, not liking the situation, but remained silent.

  


"Who?" Kurama asked. "Who is here?"

  


Inari ignored his question, folding his long arms. "I knew it. I knew he was involved. Show yourself!" he called. "Do not prolong this!"

  


For a moment, all was still. Then they heard light footsteps, almost too soft in the night. A strange youko appeared at the entrance to the cave, with eyes the color of Inari's dark slits and pale tan hair.

  


Noticing the small figure cradled in the youko's arms, Kit felt his core tighten painfully. _My- my son?_ He took a step forward.

  


"Sakukyo!" cried Hiyaku, dashing ahead of the others. Hesitating once those dark eyes turned to him, he curled a hand to his chest. The taller youko merely stood holding the boy. Hiyaku bit his lip; Saku seemed unharmed . . . "Please," he said quietly.

  


Bara nodded and bent to gently lower the unconscious child into Hiyaku's arms. He is fine.

  


Hiyaku blinked, hearing the thought-speak in his head. "T-thank you."

  


Kit wanted nothing more than to hold his son, to both berate him for running away and assure him that things would be different. But he held back, wrenching his gaze from Saku to this other youko. "Where is Achene?" he demanded. "Where is she?"

  


The tan youko gestured, unfolding slender fingers. She has ventured inside the temple. All we can do is wait for her to return.

  


Inari bristled, eyes darkening with his foul mood. "What have you done?"

  


What needed to be done. Bara looked at him cooly. What you should have done.

  


"You may have cost us everything! You knew I was fading; you knew it had begun. And yet still you showed yourself to them!"

  


"Excuse us," Kurama cut in. Two pairs of black eyes swept to land on him. "Ah, could you explain what is going on? Who are you, if I may ask?"

  


Inari sighed, rubbing his temple with a hand. "He is my father, of sorts. Oh, do not look so surprised," he snapped. "Even the Reikai Prince is the son of Enma-daioh. All gods have an origin, and mine is _him_." He jerked a thumb at the other youko. "He calls himself Bara, for what it is worth, and he roams these lands like a plague."

  


"Then," said Hiyaku uncertainly, "he- he's a god?"

  


No, Bara answered, smiling slightly. I am not a god. Nor did I actively seek out the two children; I owed a debt.

  


"Two whelps?" Inari snorted. "They have lived a mere blink of a century!"

  


Bara shrugged, a minute lifting and falling of shoulders. They were in need of help and I gave it to them. A life for a life. It makes no difference who it is or why. He shifted to Kit, and Kit did not waiver under his scrutiny. Do not fear what may happen to your daughter. She is choosing her Wish, and the Stone will not harm her.

  


Kit grunted a response. He had met this youko before, he remembered, in a dream several days ago. Bara appeared to have no hidden motives himself, but Kit did not like the way the other youko pried into his mind.

  


Bara appeared to understand and bowed his head. The children have been very brave. As you may already know, my son– and here some humor came into his eyes –has been undergoing some troubles, and he hoped one of them might assist him.

  


"Why would you care?"

  


Friend youko, said Bara, spreading his hands, I have no other motive than expressing my affection for them. It is the best I can explain.

  


Kit cut his eyes away, glaring at a pebble near his foot. He supposed he had no reason to be angry, but he did not have to like it.

  


"How long does it normally take?" Hiei said, staring at the temple.

  


"Depends," Kurama said. "The temple should have already left, if Achene had the Stone, but if she's making the Wish now then it could take any length of time."

  


Hiyaku tightened his arms around Saku. _I'm sorry, chibi._

  


All they could do was wait.

  


***

  


//_I'm here again,_ thought Saku. He stood in the room with brown walls; the book lay unopened on the table in the corner just as before. _My father's memory . . . _

  


"Bara?" he called. The youko had appeared here the last time, but now he did not answer. Saku hesitated for a moment, then whispered, "Achene?"

  


"Here I am."

  


He spun around, golden eyes wide like saucers. His sister was beside him, her hair brushing her shoulders. "A-Achene, you- you . . ."

  


"I've caused you so much pain," she said softly, her voice pouring more words than he had ever heard her speak.

  


"H-how are you . . . I mean, you've never–"

  


"Spoken?" she finished for him. "It's difficult for me out there, out in the open. It has been for many, many years."

  


Sadness tugged at his heart. "Do you remember what niichan told us? About the first time we visited Mother's grave? What . . . did you see?"

  


"Tears. Anguish. Melancholiness. We were surrounded by grief there." She lowered her head, scarlet hair hiding her face like a curtain. "I see the same things when I look into our father's eyes."

  


Saku balled his hands into fists. "That's what we're trying to fix, isn't it? That's what we're going to use the Sachi Stone for."

  


"I can't."

  


Desperation washed over him. "But _why?_ We have to!"

  


"Our people need the strength. Without it, they will die. I'm sorry, my brother, but I've already made my Wish."

  


"Achene–"

  


"But you still have yours." At his confused expression, she moved closer to him and took one of his hands. "The Stone doesn't have limits. I chose to help the youko, yet the Stone still wants to grant _your_ One True Wish."

  


Something cool was pressed into his palm. Saku looked down and saw a small piece of rock, nothing special to the eye.

  


Achene released his hand. "I couldn't do this without knowing that someone could take care of our family. I have faith in our father." Her tiny hands clasped his shoulders as she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "And I have faith in _you_."

  


Her words gladdened him, and he returned her embrace. Although, why was she talking now? He didn't want her to ever stop, and yet he wondered if she would act this way in the outside world. How could things go back to normal after all they had been through?

  


And then he remembered the book. They were inside a memory of his father . . . what would the book tell him?

  


"Have you read it?" he asked Achene.

  


"No. Are you going to?"

  


He shook his head. "I can't . . . not yet. I think I have to wait. Now isn't the time for it." He paused. "I'm unconscious, aren't I?"

  


The corners of her mouth tilted upward. "Bara apologizes for the knot you may have. If we'd known of any other way, we would have done that instead."

  


"Couldn't you just have _told_ me?"

  


Her smile slipped a little. "Explaining would've taken too long. Can you imagine what would happen if I suddenly started talking again?"

  


"Yeah," he admitted. "I guess you're right. Achene, I- I think our journey is over."

  


"No, brother," she said, her eyes mirroring the shininess in his. "We've begun it."

  


It wasn't over? The Sachi Stone was cool against his palm, reminding him that it awaited his One True Wish. His bottom lip trembled. "But," he whispered, "I don't know what to do."

  


"I'll be here when you wake up," she said. Her voice sounded farther away, and he was started to see her form fading.

  


"Wait, Achene! _Achene!_"//

  
  


"Achene!"

  


Two hands gently pushed at his shoulders, coaxing Sakukyo to lay down again. The pillow was soft beneath his head and the blanket pooled about his waist. He was laying in a bed that smelled of familiarity, of affection – his own bed.

  


He whimpered, curling into a ball of thin limbs. His head hurt and the world was spinning. "Where . . . where . . ."

  


"Ssh, chibi," a voice soothed. "It's all right. You're safe. You're home."

  


"H-home?" Saku cracked his eyes open, squinting against the sunlight streaming in through the window. "Niichan?"

  


Hiyaku grinned and sat on the edge of the bed. "Yeah, it's me. I was wondering why you'd finally wake up. You've been asleep for almost twelve hours."

  


That roused the boy, and he eased himself into a sitting position, ignoring his pounding head. "Where's Achene?" _She told me she'd be here._

  


"She's fine," Hiyaku reassured. "She stayed by your side for as long as she could, until she finally fell asleep." He reached over and affectionately ruffled his brother's black hair. "You two gave us such a big scare."

  


"I'm sorry. I really am." Saku picked at his sleeve, then realized he was wearing pajamas instead of his traveling clothes.

  


Hiyaku noticed his alarm, and pulled a sealed envelope from his pocket. "The youko called Bara asked me to give this to you. He said you'd know what to do."

  


"Bara . . ." Saku's fingers quivered as they grasped the white paper. "What happened?"

  


"Many things. Father and I, along with Kurama-san and Hiei-san, went to the Makai to look for both of you. We didn't catch up until after Achene went inside the temple of the Sachi Stone."

  


_Father . . .came?_

  


"I don't understand all of it," Hiyaku continued. "I thought the Stone granted the One True Wish, the hidden desire that a person holds. But the youko have been slowly . . . fading . . . and Achene used the Stone to stop it."

  


"I know," Saku said. He felt the shape of the envelope's contents through the thin paper; two round items, one larger than the other. "Achene told me."

  


Hiyaku blinked. "How?"

  


"Um, it's hard to explain. So how'd we get back here?"

  


"Well, the temple began to rise into the sky again, and there was Achene on the grass. Bara got to her before anyone and said that her Wish was made. Inari-sama began to glow with the brightest light, then! Saku, you wouldn't believe the sight! Then he helped us get back to the Ningenkai portal, and we arrived here a few hours ago." Hiyaku shrugged. "That's basically all, as simple as I can make it."

  


"I-Inari?" Saku squeaked.

  


Hiyaku winced. "Yeah. Look, chibi, let me get you something to eat. You're probably starving. There's plenty of time for talk later, okay?"

  


"Okay." He let the older youko tuck him in and watched him leave the room. As soon as Hiyaku was gone, Saku tore open the envelope. The Sachi Stone and a seed fell out into his lap. His breath caught in his throat. Putting the Stone aside for now, he tenderly nudged the brown seed, and, hoping, urged it to open.

  


The seed sprouted, bright green unfurling and stretching toward the sunlight. Saku swallowed a happy sob as he saw the violet petals blossom, and the plant still grew until the fanged flower was spread warmly across him. Before it could say anything, Saku scooped it into his arms, vines and all, and cradled it to his chest.

  


"I was afraid," he whispered. "I was so afraid I'd never see you again."

  


It patted his arm comfortingly, chirping something about having tried to protect him the best it could. Saku laughed silently into its silky petals, knowing that he had made a lasting friend, that he would never be alone.

  


It told him there were other youko nearby.

  


"Don't worry," he said. "It's just my brother and sister." He listened as it said there was one more closer to the room, just outside.

  


_Father_.

  


He must be furious. They had made so much trouble for everyone, and especially their father. They had ran away from him, to the _Makai_, no less, and forced Kit to leave wherever he went during the week of their birthday.

  


Saku had grown up watching their fragile family slowly fall apart. According to snippets of conversation he heard, their mother had been the glue that held Kit together, and when she died . . .

  


After she met Bara, Achene's reason for searching for the Stone had been different than Saku's. But Saku knew what his One True Wish would be . . . the cluster of his innermost desires.

  


Happiness.

  


He longed for _happiness_. He wanted to have a normal birthday, to watch his father smile and – Inari forbid – maybe even laugh. He would do anything for that.

  


He slipped the Stone into his pocket and tossed back the covers, pushing the flower to the side. He couldn't avoid this forever, and he told the plant to stay in the room so he could go alone. The old temple, their home, was silent as Saku padded barefoot through the hallway. The front sliding door was open and lit by sunlight.

  


Kit sat on the first few steps, his silver hair trailing behind him, tail limp, face propped in his hands. This youko was his father, and yet even the sight of him was so foreign, like looking at a picture of an event Saku had never taken part in. Saku held his breath, sliding closer when Kit seemed to not hear him.

  


For a moment, he fidgeted. Then, with a burst of courage, he cleared his throat.

  


Kit immediately tensed and glossy eyes jerked around to meet Saku's wide mirror-image golden. Saku could tell he had been sitting there for a long time for Kit's face looked haggard and strained from lack of sleep.

  


"H-Hi, Father," he managed to choke out.

  


"Sakukyo," Kit murmured.

  


Silence filled the space between them. Saku crossed the last distance, ears laid flat to his skull, until he stood beside the youko. Kit was still taller than him even while sitting.

  


"I- I came to apologize," Saku said. "I really screwed things up. I . . ." He stared down at the stone floor, unable to stand Kit's sharp gaze. "I shouldn't have done it, and it was all my fault, really, because I- I'm the one that–"

  


He found himself enveloped by two strong arms and drawn against a broad chest. Kit was hugging him; his father was hugging him. Saku could feel his father warmly surrounding him, could smell his minty scent, could sense his core pulsing as rapidly as Saku's heart.

  


Saku wound his arms around Kit's neck and clung to him. "I'm sorry, Father!" he cried. "I'm so sorry!"

  


Kit took the boy's shoulders fiercely and pulled him back. His eyes smouldered. "Do not _ever_ tell me you are sorry for doing something that you felt was right."

  


Saku couldn't hold it back any longer. All the fear and sadness pushed to the surface, bringing tears along with them. "But it's my fault! I was selfish, Father, and I didn't listen to anyone. I led Achene into danger and I didn't care what happened as long as I got to make my Wish, as long as _I_ got to be happy!"

  


Again he was swept up in an embrace. "My foolish son," came Kit's rough voice in his ear. "Why must you berate yourself so? I know what you were going to Wish for . . . Inari above, can you ever forgive me?"

  


Saku gulped, stunned by the actions and words of this youko. "F-forgive. I- I–" He collapsed into silence.

  


"Look at you," Kit said, holding him an arm's length away. "How much you have grown, and I did not notice. I was so caught within my own pain that I did not notice anything else. What I have done is unforgivable. _She_ would never forgive me."

  


Saku swallowed. "You- you miss Mother." And then he saw it, the emptiness inside his father. Saku saw the way his long-nailed hands trembled, the tenseness in his muscles, the lines around his eyes and mouth. And he knew what he had to do.

  


He found the Sachi Stone in his pocket and, shaking, extended it to the youko.

  


Kit stared at the piece of rock held by the boy's tiny palm, and his eyes widened. "The Stone . . ."

  


"I'm giving it to you," Saku said. "And you can- can use it."

  


Kit knew the Stone's power as well as anyone. But . . . he had to stop running. He gently cupped Saku's hand and folded his fingers over the cool rock. "Not that way. It cannot be fixed that way." Kit sighed, bathing his son with his warm breath. "Yes, I miss Daini, and I do not believe I have ever said that aloud. I am reminded of her by so many things: when I enter our home, when I gaze up at moonlight, when I watch you and Achene as you leave for school. She still . . . lives within so much . . ."

  


"You've never told us a lot about her," Saku said quietly.

  


Kit stood with one graceful motion and tucked Saku up near his shoulder. "Would you like to know?"

  


"H-how?"

  


"There are books that were written about her, about our past. I . . . have not ever read them. We could read them together, if you wanted."

  


Saku's heart swelled. "What should we do with the Stone?"

  


Kit stopped at the door. "Do you still want it?"

  


He was leaving the choice to Saku, and Saku didn't have to think long. He shook his head.

  


Taking the Stone, Kit weighed it in his hand, then reared back his arm and tossed it over the garden wall far into the forest. "It will find its own way back to the Makai. It always does." He headed inside, setting Saku down once they reached one of the back unused rooms. In the top shelf of a dresser he fetched a plain-looking book and handed it to his son, then sat them both in a large armchair, Saku on his knee.

  


Saku recognized the book instantly.

  


_//"W-whose memory is this?"_

  


_Your father's. Do you not wish to read it?_

  


He traced the lettering of the author's name. "Who's Shelta Waters?"

  


"An American reporter, well-known now," Kit told him. "She knew your mother."

  


"Do you keep in touch with her?"

  


Kit gave a snort of friendly annoyance, directed at the woman in question. "Sometimes." He felt a change inside Saku, a sudden relaxation. "What is it?"

  


A smile spread across Saku's face. "I just got an idea about how to stop the Reikai from closing the borders. Would you help me?"

  


Momentarily startled, Kit leaned back in the chair, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "Daini used to do the same thing. Off to save the world!" He poked the boy in a particular ticklish spot, receiving a giggle. "She would be proud of you."

  


Maybe he didn't need any grand wishes or miracles, Saku thought as his father playfully tickled him and rubbed his hair the wrong way. Maybe happiness could be found right here, with laughter and warmth and healing.

  


***

  


He adjusted his clip-on tie, feeling like a child wearing a stiff suit. _Wait a minute, I *am* a child wearing a stiff suit._ The fanged flower encouraged him from its hiding place among his neatly-combed hair.

  


"I can't believe I'm doing this," Saku muttered.

  


Achene batted his hand away and straightened the tie herself. "Stop that."

  


"Sorry," he said a bit sheepishly. "It's just . . . Mother and Father lived in the spotlight most of the time and when she died, the world gradually forgot about us. I know I need to have hope that everything will go like we planned, but . . . all those people . . ."

  


She only smiled and went back to sorting his speech notes. She hadn't spoken much after that first time in his dream, but Saku knew talking would become easier the more she did it, and she _was_ getting better. He was just glad she would be right beside him today, even if she didn't say anything.

  


"Two minutes," one of the stagecrew told them.

  


Saku could hear Shelta Waters announcing them and the low murmuring of the crowd gathered. Then a loud applause nearly deafened his ears, and the stage manager began to pull back the curtain.

  


A cool hand slipped into his. He glanced at his sister, saw the encouragement in her eyes. He squeezed her hand once.

  


/_/"I want to go back," Daini admitted and touched Kit's face. "But not if they won't accept *you*."_

  


_"People cannot change without time to help them. When that day comes, we will be ready for it." Cool lips brushed her palm. "Eh, itoshii?"_

  


_She answered by tugging him closer. _When that day comes, Kit and I will walk the streets together, hand in hand. We'll go to the movies and eat out for dinner and play in the park._//_

  


The curtain was fully opened, and the two children stepped into the room amidst flashing camera lights.

  


//__When that day comes . . .__//

  


"Hello, everyone. My name is Niitoku Sakukyo, and I'm here to tell you about the Reikai and their plan to shut down our inter-world gates . . ."

  
  


*owari*

  
  


_Arishia's Notes: After about two years of writing on the "After Faded Light" saga, all 5 fanfics are finally finished. I must admit, I'm both sad and relieved to see it end. There are a couple of people I must mention, those who kept me going chapter after chapter with their devotion to this series:_

  


_My roomie, Emchay, for her encouragement and sudden bursts of laughter. ^^_

  


_To-chan, for her continuing support of anything I write._

  


_And last, but not least, Mina Lightstar. Only because of the endless hours spent through AIM and email was this series ever finished. My endless thanks to her for beta-ing (and for providing Rev the Muse with some "recreational" enjoyment whenever things got stressful ^^_).

  
  


Until next time!


End file.
